Sarie Mue
by UnromanticPoetess
Summary: A continuing parody of romance fics a satirical look at the hilarious quest of Sarie Mue to find true love in the anime world of DBZ. ch 10: Vegeta!
1. Trunks

Disclaimer:  I do not own Dragonball Z, nor do I own the Excel Saga, Rod Serling, Alfred Hitchcock, MTV, or any other cultural references I happen to make.  My parents paid for this computer and the program on which I am writing this, and I only own half of this story.  There.  Ya get the picture?  Do I have to spell it out for ya?  I'm nothing!  Nothing!

Author's Notes:  Sorry about that.  Alright.  Down to business.  If you've read any of my other stories, you'll know that this story is completely different from any of my other work.  Don't worry, I still promise the same great quality of my other angst-ridden dramatic stories, but I've decided to try out the venue of parody.  No, this isn't a parody of something else couched in the DBZ world – this is a parody of both DBZ and the genre of DBZ romance, particularly self-insertion romance.  I do, however, tend to go a bit crazy with pop culture references, so prepare to witness a parody of _everything._

Another new thing is that this is the first time I'm writing with a co-author.  My boyfriend, Howler Wolf (penname, obviously).  As I've mentioned before, I usually write angst-ridden dramas, with a touch of comedy here and there.  While he has no author page on FF.Net, Howler helped me come up with the concept of "Sarie Mue", so I decided to write it with him.  Howler is a comic genius of rare talent.  I couldn't have done it without him.  Also, without him I probably would have become just like poor desperate Sarie Mue.  So Howler deserves credit for any success this story reaches.

As I've said, this fic is a parody of DBZ romance fanfiction.  Each chapter will feature an attempt with a different DBZ male.  There will be fifty chapters of varying sizes.  If the chapters are too short, I'll put out more than one at a time.  I have a complete tentative list of fifty DBZ men, but feel free to give suggestions.  I'll probably already have him listed, but enough requests might make his chapter come out sooner.  Suggestions of comic ideas are also welcomed and considered.  And just because we don't use them doesn't mean we don't love them.  If we do use a suggestion, you'll receive acknowledgement in the chapter.

Further note – it will probably help you to brush up a little on the Excel Saga.  It's not completely essential, but it will explain a few of the references, as well as one of the characters, and the type of humor that comes out occasionally.  For the record, I did not base Sarie Mue on myself.  She is completely fictional.

Well, without further ado, I present… 

**Sarie Mue: The Chronicles of the Quest of the Search for the Possibility of Love and Acceptance in the World of Dragonball Z**

**Prologue**

A girl sat in her pink room on her pink bed, surrounded by pink and brown teddy bears and other various stuffed animals, wiping her pink smudged face with a pink tissue.  As she sniffed despondently, she pushed her frizzy locks out of her face and wiped her glasses before putting them back on.  That didn't help.  They just fogged back up again.  She could barely make out the pictures of the generically handsome boys she had spread on the quilt before her.

"Why won't they go out with me?" she lamented.

One by one, with great reverence, she put each picture into a Nike shoebox, along with locks of hair, scraps of clothing, chewed-on pencils, and anything else she could get her hands on.  All mementos of each of her true loves and soul mates from the age of six until now.  A few rogue tears fell down her blotchy cheek.  She had been sobbing, but now the only sounds in her room were the strains of MTV playing in the background.  For once, she was ignoring the news of which effeminate Boy Band star was now going with which cookie-cutter Pop Diva this week.

"I can't live vicariously anymore," she declared, blowing her nose loudly one final time into her tissue before tossing it over her shoulder onto her Soap Opera Weekly.

She didn't understand it.  She kept going after those guys she knew she was in love with.  They met all her criteria.  Tall.  Good-looking.  Popular.  Well-off.  Charming…  She'd even started to take 'tall' out of the list.  But it was to no avail.  She knew that they would love her, if only they got to know her.  She paused at the picture of her latest love.  Scott.  She'd had such hope for him.  He was perfect.  He was a football player, for goodness sake.  And she knew that he just _had to like her.  He just had this hang-up with a girlfriend that he couldn't get away from.  But Scott had actually noticed her one day.  He'd asked to borrow a pencil.  She knew that there was true love there, in his eyes.  But he just couldn't show it…_

…until he'd asked her to stop following him around and threatened to get a restraining order.

The girl sighed angrily.  It wasn't like she'd never heard _that before.  She was used to it by now._

"Well, no longer.  I've had it with boys."

She shoved the shoebox into the back of her closet, adding one more to her three-fold collection.  Slamming the closet door, she stomped over to her computer and plopped down in front of it.  Moving the mouse to get rid of the starfield screensaver, she was confronted with her background.  She stared at it apathetically.  It was a background made up of various scanned photos of the boys she'd liked in the past year.  She considered destroying the computer screen, but she remembered the last time she did that.  Her parents had blown up at her, and the counseling sessions had not come cheap.  Instead, she right-clicked, went to **Properties**, and surveyed the choices for backgrounds.  Bypassing any made with scanned pictures (years 1996-2003), she made her way down the list.  Finally, she rested on a grouping of backgrounds from her favorite anime series labeled **The Men of DBZ.**

Slowly, a light began to dawn in the back of her mind.  An idea was forming – an escape from her horrid life.  She quickly chose a background, clicked **OK**, and gazed hungrily at the Saiyans in front of her.  Any of them would be perfect for her.  They were all strong, good-looking, and, alright, unavailable, but they didn't have to be.  As what passed for an original thought forced its way into her mind, she could almost see a pink-tinted light bulb blossom above her head.

"I'll write fanfiction!"

It was perfect!  She clapped her hands and squealed in delight.  Fanfiction was something she could control.  She could get rid of all the DBZ women, who were just in the way most of the time anyway, and have the men to herself.  She could have the perfect romance, and live happily ever after.  She could keep the sexiest and strongest men in all of anime all to herself.  Still giggling, with a slightly nervous (psychotic?) tinge, she opened up Microsoft Word…

…and was instantly sucked into the world and persona of Sarie Mue, rabid fangirl on the rampage.

**Interlude**

"You're traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind.  A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That's the signpost up ahead - your next stop…"  A very bewildered Rod Serling blinked in confusion, tipping the ash off his ever-present trademark cigarette.  "Tell me again… How did I get roped into this?"

The Great Will of the Cosmos whispered back, "Because you were threatened with a Mary Sue fic of your own."

"Well, why couldn't you get Alfred Hitchcock.  He's just as dead and just as popular as I am," Rod said in a huff.

"Because he _wanted the Mary Sue," she responded, her voice barely hiding her contempt for the portly British director._

"Well, I hope this is over."  Rod Serling walked out disgustedly.  "This is an insult to everything I created.  There's not even an oblique reference to the dangers of the Red Scare or technological determinism or...  

"Rod," The Great Will of the Cosmos said, "I'd like you to meet your new friend Mary S…"

"Sorry!" Rod said quickly.  "I'll be on my way now.  But for Pete's sake, why don't you let Pedro get back to his adorable son and sexy wife?  He's suffered enough."

A faint whimpering could be heard in the background from said Pedro.  The Fate of the Cosmos only smirked, well, as much as a floating starfield with arms _can_ smirk, and tightened her grip on the tormented construction worker.  "I think I've had enough of saving Excel.  Let's see what I can do with Sarie Mue.  She looks fun."  With a flick of her slender white wrists, the world of OC self-insertion DBZ romance came to life around the girl, who immediately began her quest with…

**Chapter 1: Trunks **

"I can't believe I'm actually here," Sarie said to herself.  "I'm actually outside the office of the most wonderfully perfect, cutest, most charming, richest, nicest, sweetest, most terrific guy in all of anime: TRUNKS!  I mean not only is he one of the most powerful fighters in the universe, but he is sooooo fine, and his purple hair is sooooo cool!  I can't wait to run my fingers through it.  I must be the luckiest girl in the whole wide anime world!  But why am I talking really fast and really loudly to myself describing the situation I'm in as if I am trying to let the audience know what's going on?  I guess it must be a side-effect of being in an anime…"

Taking a deep breath, she took in her surroundings.  The door to the office read, "Trunks Briefs, CEO, Capsule Corp."  

_That must mean I'm in GT_, she thought.  _I've been waiting for the English dub to come out for that for soooo long.  I just can't abide by those Japanese/English subtitled versions.  With all that reading, I can't focus on the hot bods of all those sexy Saiyans. _

Strangely, she also noticed that the hallway smelled faintly of lilac and roses.  

Pausing by a glass wall across the hallway, she used the reflection to check her appearance.  She was surprised to see her long, flowing jet-black hair, her humongous, overly-expressive green eyes, which seemed to be dancing with joy (shown by vibrating white dots bouncing around in her pupils to an almost ridiculous Hamtaro extent), her narrow face and lithe body, which seemed to speak of a grace and confidence usually reserved for Russian ballet dancers, and her gravity-defying womanly proportions which seemed to need no support of any kind under her Japanese school girl attire.  

"OH…MY…DENDE!" she screamed, running her hands over her new anime chick body.  "I am a total anime babe!  Trunks isn't going to be able to resist me!  Look at my hair!  My eyes!  My legs!  My…"

"I am!" shouted a smarmy-looking, bespectacled accountant on the other side of the glass.  "Believe me, I am!"  

"WHY YOU!" she shouted, failing to notice the squiggly mark appearing above her head as the world turned into a brilliant yellow and red flash, framing her furious pose.  

As her eyes transmogrified into straight lines with centered dots, the shocked accountant turned upside down, his feet sticking up in the air, as a blare of trumpets and cymbals sounded out of nowhere.

Composing herself, she turned around, ready to finally enter the office of the man she'd dreamed of her entire life!  (Or at least since the Cell Saga…)

Opening the door, she was shocked by a familiar sight.  The office was the same shade of pink as her room in the real world.  

_Wow! _she thought.  _Trunks and I are SO obviously meant to be!_

"TRUNKS!" she shouted, falling to the ground quickly as a ki blast flew past her head.

"Pan!" she heard a voice shout, "I thought I told you to stay away from me!  You could at least knock before you…   Oh!" he stopped short, noticing the shaking figure on the ground.

As he loomed over her, Sarie Mue suddenly found herself confronted for the first time by the soulful, cerulean eyes of Trunks Briefs, gazing down at her as if he could read the deepest thoughts and innermost desires of her very soul!

"Sorry!" Trunks said quickly.  "I didn't mean to blast you like that.  I thought you were someone else.  And I'm sorry if I keep staring at you as if I can read the deepest thoughts and innermost desires of your very soul.  I tend to do that a lot."  

"That's alright," she said, noting briefly that her voice had risen two octaves and suddenly obtained a breathy quality.  "I shouldn't have barged in like that.  I just wanted to meet you so badly…"  

She reached her hand up toward him, so he could help her up.  

"Uh…" he said uncomfortably, staring at her hand in confusion for a moment.  "Oh!" he cried in sudden realization, reaching tentatively to take her hand and pulling her up.

"My!" she exclaimed.  "Your hands are so strong and…soft?" 

"I use a moisturizing lotion," Trunks said.  "I order it from Avon every month!  You should really try it!  It has the same scent as the lilac rose air freshener I use in the building!  And the rose scent just fits so well with the décor, don't you think?  Isn't it just divine?" he asked, gesturing expansively with one hand to encompass his pink-painted office.

"Yes," she agreed.  "Pink is my favorite color, too!" she cooed, batting her eyes at him as the white dots in her pupils multiplied and began to vibrate even more quickly.

"Well actually, lavender is my _favorite color, but I really like pink," Trunks said. _

"Me too!" she agreed quickly.  "Lavender is my favorite color!  I just love lavender, really!" she said, reaching out to run her hands through his silken locks of just that color.

Backing away quickly, Trunks suddenly thought to ask, "Who are you, again?"  

"Why, I'm Sarie Mue," she said, slightly confused by her answer, as this was certainly not her name.  _Oh well_, she thought.  _New universe, new name…and not a bad one!  Sarie Mue…I like it!_

"Well it's…uh…nice to meet you, Sarie…_snort_…Mue.  My name is," he paused dramatically to whip off his glasses, his purple hair stirred by a mysterious indoor breeze, "Briefs…Trunks Briefs."

"Oh I know!" she babbled cheerfully, mistaking the snort he'd interjected in her name for a sudden bout of sinus trouble.  "I know everything about you!  You fought against the androids, and you came back to the past to warn everyone and you were the second super-saiyan ever and you killed the cyborg Frieza and you…"

"NO!" he shouted with a furious glare, which looked very out of place on his narrow face with his high cheekbones and slightly pouty lips, "That wasn't me."   

"Oh..." she said, momentarily confused.  "Then what did you do?" 

"I fought against Majin Buu!" he said angrily.  Starting to mumble, he added, "Well, I was eight years old, and fused, and we didn't actually beat him but…"  Finding his voice, he began again, "But I helped Goku find the Black Star Dragonballs!  Why, without me he would've…umm…well, I was _with him, anyway…"  _

Realizing he had resumed his mumbling, he tried again.  "If not for me, this whole planet would have blown uhhh….okay it did blow up, but still I, um…._mumble mumble mumble_…"

"Oh!" Sarie chirped happily.  "Well I still know all about you, because you're really sexy and you're one of the most powerful fighters in the universe, and you are sooooo fine and your purple hair is sooooo..."

"Um…Why are you here again?" Trunks suddenly broke into her tirade.

"Oh!  Well that's simple, I…" she paused as she realized that despite the obvious, personal connection she had formed with Trunks upon seeing how sexy he was, she couldn't think of any reason why she should be there.  Then, remembering the deep, meaningful bond she had discovered earlier, she continued.  "…came to admire your lovely decorating!"

"Oh!  I know!" he shouted, elated that she recognized his discriminating tastes in pastel shades.  "I really had to work hard to balance the lighting over here with the Feng Shui feel I was going for over here," he ranted, gesturing expansively around him, failing to notice that one particularly bold gesture had accidentally knocked her across the room and implanted her, upside-down, in one of his lovely pink walls.  However, thanks to Funimation, her gravity-defying skirt protected her modesty.

"Oh my goodness!" Trunks shouted, seeing her hanging in the wall with a comically-stretched smile and tiny, circular eyes, band-aids having mysteriously appeared on her cheek and elbows, "I just had that wall painted a month ago!  FREDERICCO!"

As Sarie Mue pulled herself off the ground, she noticed a man with a slight build sporting a thin mustache and a business suit rushing toward the fractured wall from another room attached (?) to Trunks' office.  

"Oh Dende!" shouted Fredericco in a thick European accent.  "Look at zis!  How did zis 'appen?  What it ze girl doing to our precious office, Trunks-chan?  Oh my my my…  Zis' veel not do at all!"  

Trunks had begun to sob by this point, holding one hand on his hip and gesturing to the wall with the other, he whined, "It was my favorite wall, Fredericco!  My favorite!  See what she did?!!"  

As three huge, equidistantly-spaced sweat drops appeared in Sarie's hair, she began to apologize profusely.  

"I'm SO sorry, Trunks!  I didn't mean to hurt your wall!  It was my favorite wall, too!  I promise.  I know I had only just seen it, but I was already forming a connection to it, when I…connected to it…  I'm SO sorry, Trunks, and you too, Mr. Fr…" she stopped suddenly, realizing that there was a strange foreign man living in a room attached to Trunks' office.  "Who are you again?"

Trunks suddenly began to blush.  "This is Fredericco, my…interior decorator…and we're very upset right now, so you should leave!"

"But," she began…

"Go!" he shouted again.  

As she left, she heard Fredericco comforting him.  "Zere zere, Trunks-chan…Zere zere, I can make everyzing all better…"

Suddenly Sarie was swept up in a swirl of stars and solar systems shooting through the cosmos in every direction.  She found herself floating peacefully along the starfield, a soothing voice telling her that a new chance at love would come her way.  A chance for a new start for all her dreams to come true with…

**Chapter 2: Goku (coming soon!)**


	2. Goku

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z or…well…any other pop culture reference we happen to make.  I fear there are too many to mention.

Author's Notes:  Well, here we are at the second installment of the misadventures of Sarie Mue.  I must thank my friend Dark Wolf for his review.  Be sure to check out his original story "Fullmoon Light" on FictionPress.  And for the review from JoSav.  Thanks a whole heap.  And now, without further ado, on with… **SARIE MUE!!**

Co-Author's Notes (or, further ado): Hello True Believers!  Howler Wolfe, here.  This parody is the first and only fanfic I've ever worked on.  I try to help UnromanticPoetess with ideas on some of her other works, but anyone who has read "The Soul," knows, she has a wonderfully deep and dramatic writing style that I just can't seem to add much to!  Parody and satire are more my speed.  So, again, enjoy!  And a prize to anyone who can name all of the pop culture references!  BTW, Dark Wolf pointed out a similarity between Fredericco and an interior decorator with a similar name on a Simpson's episode.  I didn't even realize we'd made that particular reference.  Thanks for keeping a sharp eye, DW.   

**Prologue:**

From the depths of an endless starfield, a booming voice rang out: "Fanfiction: The Final Frontier!"  

Clad in spandex-tight black pants and a too-tight orange top which did little to hide the "spare tire" bulge across his midriff, William Shatner wondered briefly where he was, but continued unwaveringly.  _After all, he thought, _there's a show to do!_  Getting into it, he began throwing in his trademark pauses and emphasizing random syllables.  _

"THESE are the VOYages of one…Sarie…MUE!  Her mission: To explore strange…NEW plots…to seek out…SOME ANIME HUNK to…fall in love with…to…BOLDLY GO where…EVERY fangirl has gone before!!!" Shatner completed his monologue, his eyes closed, his hands gripping the air in front of him, still lost in the glory of his epic performance…

"Where's the theme music?!" he shouted suddenly, looking around wildly.  "My name should be right there!" he said, pointing to the middle of the starfield before him.  

Suddenly, a delicate, slender, white hand grabbed his own, which appeared rather sweaty and pasty by comparison.  "Watch where you're pointing that thing, Kirk!" commanded the Great Will of the Cosmos, her voice angry yet still somehow sultry and feminine.  

"I've already told you," he said, now petulant and rather whiny.  "I'm not just Captain Kirk!  I'm William Shatner!  I was T.J. Hooker for crying out loud!  I am an award-winning author AND a director!  I invented TECH WARS!"  

Though well-aware of all these facts and essentially every other fact in existence, the Great Will couldn't help torturing him a bit more.  After all, if not for his so-called directing, Star Trek V might have been worth watching.  

"So, what's it like fighting a Gorn?" she asked.  "Can you really construct a rudimentary lathe cannon from bamboo?  Why did the Klingons YOU fought barely have any head-bumps?  Did the aliens REALLY force you to kiss Uhura, or was that just an excuse?  Is it true that Spock did most of the work while you just banged alien women?"  

"THAT POINTY-EARED FREAK NEVER DID ANYTHING BUT…" he stopped suddenly, purple and shaking with pent-up rage.  "I mean, it's just a show…get a life…" he muttered.

            As she transported Shatner back to his writing desk to work on his latest failure, the Great Will of the Cosmos chuckled to herself.  "Perhaps I should have just given him his own Mary Sue," she mused aloud.  

"Nevertheless, his introduction, melodramatic as it was, will suffice.  I now have but to grant Sarie Mue her greatest wish.  I think I know just the man to fulfill it…"

  
**Chapter 2: Goku**

As reality snapped back into existence around her, Sarie Mue, rabid fangirl on the rampage, still somewhat disoriented from the sudden return of sensation, took in her surroundings.  

She turned in a circle, finding herself at the foot of an impossibly-tall mountain range.  She was surrounded by dense jungle growth and thought she spied curious eyes peaking tentatively at her through the foliage.  Looking to the sky, she saw what appeared to be an orange pterodactyl flying above her, carrying a purple cow.  

"Wow!" she giggled malevolently, letting her mind wander to fantasies of a certain purple-haired anime hunk suffering the same fate as the unfortunate bovine.  

            "No!" she declared to herself.  "That part of my life is over.  I won't dwell on the past!  Trunks and I were just not meant to be."  

Thus, putting her behind in the pa…er…putting her past behind her, she prepared to instead charge blindly into the future.  

            "Well," she said, "I guess I need to look for my NEW eternal soulmate."  

            Pushing her way through forest, humming _Cha La Head Cha La_ to herself, she came upon a gently flowing stream.  Looking down at her reflection, she was momentarily taken aback by her again-changed appearance.  

            Her hair, which had been jet black in her scenario with…she forced herself not to tear up…Trunks…was now long, straight and blond with a red bow tying it back from her too-cute face, with its round, dimpled cheeks.  She was clad in pink fighting armor, highlighted with yellow swirls and designs.  Though to be honest, for "armor," it covered precious little of her soft flawless skin.  While still wide and overly-expressive, her eyes had changed from green to an unearthly blue.  

            "This is great!" she squealed.  "I'm, like, Britney Spears, Warrior Princess!" 

            Turning to skip joyfully alongside the stream, she failed to notice an exposed tree root bearing the label, "PLOT DEVICE" in her path.  The toe of her knee-high pink boot caught the root at just the right (wrong) angle and sent her careening through the air, her arms flailing uselessly as her mouth opened ridiculously wide, action lines squiggled their way around her, and sweat drops flew every which way…

            With a terrific "SPLASH" highlighted by a bright yellow background, she landed in the stream.  Suddenly, the once gently-flowing stream transformed into a rampaging river, carrying her swiftly downstream toward sharp, jagged rocks, each of which bore a small tag reading, "CONTRIVED PLOT COMPLICATION."  

            Closing her eyes, tears flowing from them in over-exaggerated, gushing streams, she braced herself for impact with the deadly boulders.  Feeling the hard _THUD_ of her body against one of the rocks, she waited for death to take her away, but something strange happened.  The rock let out a startled cry. 

            _Strange, she thought.  _I didn't know that anime rocks let out startled cries.__

            Opening her eyes to examine the unusually verbose boulder, she was startled to see not the rock she expected, but the muscular and quite naked body of one Son Goku.

As she fainted into darkness, her last sight was of Goku, characteristically confused, scratching awkwardly at the back of his head with one hand and a spray of water vapor from the stream labeled "Funimation" covering Goku's (ahem)…you get the idea.  

            She awoke in a sweat, feeling rather nauseous as her stomach turned over and over and over…  Opening her eyes, she saw that it was not just her stomach.

            Whistling to himself, a now fully-dressed Goku sprinkled a bit more pepper over his catch, keeping one hand constantly turning the spit over the campfire he'd made.

            With a high-pitched squeal, Sarie Mue broke free of her bonds and floated three feet above the spit, a blare of trumpets accenting the red and green flashing background.  Landing, she screamed angrily at Goku:

            "RRRMEHRRGGHARECHHDLRG…" pausing to take the apple out of her mouth, she continued, "What in the WORLD is wrong with you?!!  You don't just roast people on a spit, you (We're sorry, but in keeping with Funimation standards, we cannot accurately repeat what Sarie Mue actually said.  Instead, we will provide you with a more suitable substitute.  Thank you for understanding.) silly person who is a jerk behaving quite naughtily!"  

            "You mean you're not a fish?" Goku asked, his black eyes wide and innocent.

            "Of course I'm not a fish!" she shouted.  "Do I have gills?  Or scales, for that matter?!!"

            "Well," Goku replied.  "Not anymore, I had to clean the scales off for cooking…" he said, gesturing to a bright pink pile Sarie recognized as her armor.  

            Looking down at herself, she realized she was covered only by a convenient cloud of smoke from the fire, labeled, not surprisingly, "Funimation."  Blushing a bright red, she quickly rushed to put on her armor, tree branches and foliage appearing mysteriously to block any clear view of her nude, nubile anime form.

            "So you're NOT a fish then," Goku said, finally catching on.  His face fell as his Saiyan stomach let out a loud rumble.  

            Now dressed and over her initial anger, Sarie realized that the tall, dark-haired Saiyan was meant to be her eternal love.  

            _He looks even better-built in person than on the screen, Sarie thought to herself.  _And he _is__ the hero, so he must be the best!  He's always so nice and caring and…  And I've yelled at him!  I'd better try to make it up to him._

"I'm sorry for not being a fish," she apologized.  "I know you must be starving…You probably have to eat a LOT to feed that lean, muscular…" she paused as she again became lost in thoughts of his powerful Saiyan body.  "Sorry!" she continued.  "Why don't I fix you supper?" 

            "GREAT!" Goku shouted.  "I'll get the fish."  

            Taking his shirt off, he dove into the water, Goku was only below the surface for a few seconds before re-emerging, a 250 lb. bass in tow.  

            "Do you think this will be enough, uh…what's your name?" he asked.  

            Sarie Mue, gazing longingly at his taut form as tiny rivulets of water rolled down his manly chest, did not answer immediately.  When his words finally did force their way into her ears, she answered, startled, "Mue!" 

            "Oh!  I know this one!  You're a cow!" exclaimed Goku.  "My turn!"  

            Goku hunched over in his best monkey impression…well, when he wasn't Oozaru or Super Saiyan level 4… his arms scratching his head and back as he jumped up and down, still bending his legs.  

            "No!" she yelled.  "I wasn't saying, 'moo!' My NAME is Sarie Mue!"  

            "Really?" Goku asked.  "That's a really dumb name!" he said, laughing. 

            "Well I didn't pick it out!" she said in a huff.  "Do you want me to cook for you or not!" 

            Holding up his hands placatingly, Goku attempted to apologize.  "Sorry!  Sorry!  I just meant that it SOUNDED really dumb…I mean…ah…"

            "NEVERMIND!" shouted Sarie.  "Let's just go so I can start cooking this fish."

            Holding the fish by the leg and Sarie Mue by the tail…er…holding the FISH by the tail and Sarie Mue by her leg, Goku launched into the air, blasting towards the Son home, thoughts of food permeating his mind so that he did not even hear Sarie's surprised scream as they barely skimmed the tops of trees and mountains.

                           ----------------------------------------------------------------------

            Meanwhile, at the Son house, Chichi busied herself with cleaning, all the while thinking of new ways to be a loud, annoying, obnoxious, and essentially pointless character who becomes involved in silly subplots in almost EVERY saga to DRAG OUT the wait for the most interesting and anticipated battles FOREVER!  And most of these subplots were not even included in the manga, and just end up being pointless and distracting and…uh…sorry…So Chichi was at the house.

            "Hello Chichi," a sultry feminine voice purred from behind her.  

            Turning suddenly, and automatically assuming a fighting position as if she actually did any important fighting, she was shocked to see a floating starfield with a pair of flawless, delicate white arms all the way down to her tapered red fingernails.

            "Who…What are you?" she asked, her voice trembling. 

            "I am the Great Will of the Cosmos, Chichi…and I have a surprise for you!" uttered the starfield.  

            "What kind of surprise?" asked Chichi.  

            "Well, I have good news and bad news," the Great Will told her.  "The bad news is that it is rather inconvenient for the young girl I am currently helping that you exist in this dimension…so I'm going to have to fix that small problem."  

            "What's the good news?" Chichi asked her.

            "Well, I promised a has-been sci-fi actor a love slave if he did an announcing gig for me, and you're it!" 

            Not giving Chichi a chance to respond, she snapped her fingers, and Chichi blinked out of existence and into the waiting arms of 'El Capitan." 

            "Then again," the Great Will mused to herself, "That was probably bad news for her, too…  Oh well."  

------------------------------------------------------

            Arriving at his home, Goku dropped the fish and Sarie Mue unceremoniously at the door and entered, calling out, "I'm home, Chi….hmm…That's strange.  No one else lives here.  Why was I about to announce that I'm here?  Oh well," he said with a shrug. 

            Sarie, her legs still shaky from flying, dragged the fish into the house, pausing occasionally to wipe huge drops of anime sweat off her forehead.

            Considering her lack of prior cooking experience, she did an excellent job with dinner.  She scaled and gutted the fish in just under three hours, working constantly with only a few stops to go outside and take deep breaths to recover from the nausea induced by scaling and gutting a 250 lb. fish.

            She then stuffed the fish into the oven, despite the fact that the oven was less than one third the size of the fish.  _Thank Kami for anime tricks_, she thought. 

            She finished the rest of the meal quickly, rushing from point to point in a blur, pausing as she worked at several different stations, tossing a salad, checking the fish, cooking a pot of rice…

            Sarie was just taking the fish out of the oven when Goku entered the kitchen for the twenty-seventh time complaining of crippling hunger pains.  Finally, her patience with him had nearly run out. 

            "I ALREADY TOLD YOU I'M DOING THE BEST I CAN!" she shouted, her head growing to three times its normal size as she put her hands on her hips.  

            Goku looked at her, momentarily confused.  _She reminds me of someone, he thought.  __I just can't remember who…  _

            Regaining her composure, Sarie continued.  "But it's done now, so we can eat!"  

            Sarie set the food out on the table and sat down.  Dropping her fork she bent over to retrieve it.  She suddenly heard an unearthly, almost demonic sound that struck terror into her very soul.  Sitting up quickly, she was astounded to see two things: 

1. An empty table.

 2.  Goku, sitting back in his chair smiling, rubbing his distended gut.  

            "Well, that wasn't very good, but there sure was a lot of it!" he said, with what passed for a compliment from the rather unmannerly Saiyan. 

            Sarie, still in a state of temporary shock, first said nothing, then began to mutter to herself… "It was here…I'm sure…I cooked it and I put it here…maybe I just thought I…No, it was here…"  

            "Well," said Goku, rising from his chair, "I guess I need to repay you for the meal."  

            "What?" asked Sarie Mue, confused.  

            "Well when…" he paused, his face again clouding over, "someone maybe used to live here…  Anyway, she would cook, and then she'd insist that I repay her."  

            Sarie, realizing who he must have been talking about decided it best not to remind him of her name, but pressed on anyway…  "How exactly did you do that?" she asked slowly, almost afraid of the answer…

            "Well, she got me to do some of the things that I saw once in one of Master Roshi's books…  I'm not sure why, but she seemed to enjoy it anyway.  It's fun I guess…  It's almost as fun as fighting.  You see, first I would carry her up the stairs and then we would (We're sorry.  But due to the standards of Funimation, we cannot repeat the very frank and extremely detailed description of both normal and some highly unusual and questionable acts performed by Goku and…um…whoever it was that used to live with him…  Nevertheless, we have done our best to provide a suitable substitution which will in no way stick out as an obviously doctored, watered-down version of the original material.  Thank you for understanding.) play a game of "MahJong."   

            "REPAY ME NOW, MANMEAT!" Sarie, who apparently couldn't wait to play "MahJong," (Know what I mean, 'ay?  She likes "games."  GAMES, 'ay, guvnah?  Nudge nudge wink wink, say no more…) shouted, tiny hearts appearing above her head.  

            "Yeah!  That's just what she used to say," Goku responded, picking her up with a resigned sigh and carrying her up the stairs toward the bedroom…where the "MahJong" board was (Hint hint nudge nudge wink wink say no more!).   

----------------------------------------------------------------

            Six minutes later, Sarie Mue was on the bed, alone, looking up at the ceiling and wondering what exactly had happened.  It had been nice…she thought…up to a point…while it lasted…maybe?  

            "Well," she said aloud to herself.  "Perhaps it was just a coincidence that he suddenly remembered he had a baby dinosaur to go feed three seconds after we…or HE finished the game of "MahJong" I was…kind of…enjoying…  I guess I just expected that he'd stick around at least until I was tired of playing "MahJong."  I barely feel like I've even played.  Maybe "MahJong" just isn't that great of a game…  Or maybe Goku is just a really bad "MahJong" player."  

            Shaking herself out of her reverie, she sighed.  "Well.  I'm sure he'll be back soon.  And then we'll talk about it."  

            So she waited.  

            And waited.

            And waited.

            And waited some more. 

            She continued to wait.  

            Then, after waiting, she went on to wait.  

            Eventually, Sarie Mue, rabid fangirl on the rampage, became Sarie Mue, lonely old lady in an empty house.  It was on a particularly lonely day, as she sat and talked to the fourteen cats she had acquired over the years, that Goku chose to return.  

            "Boy!" exclaimed Goku, looking as young and chipper as ever as he opened the door with a loud CRASH, which nearly startled the frail Sarie Mue out of the rusted pink armor that now practically hung off of her emaciated frame, "It sure is hard work watching over seventeen generations of baby dinosaurs.  I'm starving!  What's for supper?"  

            Sarie Mue arose from her rocking chair, the wood and her knees engaging in an impromptu creaking contest, and took a wheezing breath to prepare to shout at him.  As all the years of loneliness and waiting played like a bad home movie over and over inside her mind, she remembered the mental anguish she had suffered on his account, the lonely nights, the endless days…all because of him.  She barely knew where to begin.  She could barely force herself to speak, but finally, she managed to croak out what she had most wanted to say to him all these years…"You're a lousy "MahJong" player!"  

            Sadly, the strain and the shock of his return were too much for her failing heart, and she keeled over onto the floor, dead.

            Goku, confused, scratched the back of his head with one hand as her last breath rattled out of her. 

-----------------------------------------------------------

            Floating once again in an endless starfield, Sarie Mue felt the warm presence of the Great Will of the Cosmos.  Despite the horrors she had suffered, she somehow still felt a warm spark of hope arise within her.  She would finally have another chance!  A chance to find her TRUE eternal soulmate who would BE THERE…someone who would care for her…someone who…KNEW HOW TO PLAY A DECENT GAME OF "MAHJONG" FOR CRYING OUT LOUD…perhaps someone like…like….

**Chapter 3:  Krillen**


	3. Krillen

**Author's Notes:  **Ha-ha!  We're back, ready to continue the epic quest of Sarie Mue.  Howler Wolfe and I have been working extremely hard… well… relatively hard on this installment, and we must say that we're particularly pleased with it.  

We must thank all of our reviewers: wolves141 (Wow.  Thanks for the profuse praise.  We certainly hope to continue to be deserving.  Hope the Sonic cherry limeade was good.), Kitanai Kodomo (Yes, I remember seeing a few of your reviews.  Glad to see you're checking up on me.  I've noticed that plenty have appreciated our pokes at Funimation, though I think that self-insertion romance is the greater of the two evils.  Anyway.), Dark Wolf (I think I'm being surrounded by wolves…  Great to see… er… your writing again.  Now that I think back, the armor was a bit like your OCs, but our immediate inspiration came from the fact that I was reading an early Dragonball manga with the first appearance of Chichi in it, and we decided to dress Sarie as chibi Chichi.  Hey, that rhymes!  And that other tidbit of info, I admittedly wouldn't know that, being more of the lower side of middle class.  Actually, what with my education, living expenses, and a new (used) car, I'm flat broke.  *sighs* Oh, well.  At least I still have my writing.  *grins*), Sawnya (Ok, we went a little bit overboard with Trunks and the décor, but you gotta admit that Trunks is gay.  Even Toriyama and the GT writers imply this.  Notice how Trunks is practically the only DBZ guy who's not a comic relief character that never has a girlfriend or any type of romance outside of fanfiction?  That's no accident.  Oh well.  Thanks for reading.), and Lil Shady (You caught our Monty Python reference!  I thought sure no one would catch that, since it was a part The Holy Grail.  Good for you.)

Speaking of pop culture references, we weren't kidding when we challenged you to list all the pop culture references.  It would just make our day to see if anyone can get all of them.

So, with the blessings of Howler Wolfe and UnromanticPoetess, you may begin the chapter. 

**Disclaimer**: WE OWNS DRAGONBALL Z, MY PRECIOUS!  (gollum)  IT WAS MY BIRTHDAY PRESENT!  IT'S MINE!  MY OWN!  MY PRRRRECIOUS…  *sounds of a skirmish and muffled cries of "gollum!"* 

What we means of course, my precious, is that we do not owns Dragonball Z.  We be nice to you if you be nice to us, yes, my precious?  (gollum)  We no copywrite infringe…no my prrrrrecious…no…

**Prologue:** An ominous Howard Shore orchestral chord, accented with vocals by Enya, resounded over the blackness.  A rich, full female voice began to speak: 

_The world is changed  
I sense it in the inking  
I see it in the penciling  
I hear it in the soundtrack  
Much that once was is changed_

_For some silly fangirl has changed it…_

            A starfield with delicate white arms appeared over the black backdrop.  "Watch it, Missy!" she threatened.  "I didn't bring you here to editorialize." 

The speaker, a barefoot woman clad in a shimmering white dress, her long, blond flowing hair barely hiding ears curving back into graceful elvin points, came into view, looking rather flustered.

"Sorry," Galadriel said.  "Fanfics really aren't my thing.  I'll try harder…Hang on a sec'."  She looked over her shoulder, "ENYA!  CUT IT OUT!" she shouted. 

Pausing and letting out a relaxed sigh at the newfound silence, she continued her narration.  

"It began with the forging of a self-insertion romance...  Sadly, the story does not really include the elves, immortal, wisest and fairest of all beings…"

"AHEM!" the Great Will of the Cosmos interjected loudly.  

"But moving on," continued Galadriel quickly, "it did feature a young girl named Sarie Mue.  Her simple quest was to find her fabled true love, for Sarie Mue, above all else, desires…Do I really have to read this?" she asked the floating starfield. 

"Well," the Great Will mused, fingering a tiny gold ring casually, "I suppose we could just drop this whole fic idea and I could move on to tinker around with OTHER works of fantasy…like…oh, let's see…."  For a split second, Galadriel could have sworn she saw a particularly bright red star appear wreathed in flame in the middle of the otherwise calm starfield that was the Great Will.  

"Where did you get th…" Galadriel began, looking back to the oddly familiar ring the Great Will turned idly in her slim, pale fingers…  "Um…No!  No!  This is a GREAT fic idea…REALLY!  I love it!

"Anyway," continued Galadriel, resolute not to give the Great Will any more ideas, "Sarie Mue desires, above all, a happy romance with a studly DBZ man.  Our story takes place in the bright, happy land of Fanfic, where rabid fangirls chase after the poor, unsuspecting hunky heroes.  Into this story, she pours her desperation, her lack of original or interesting plots, and her will to dominate..."

**Chapter 3: Krillen**

Sarie Mue, rabid fangirl on the rampage, once again in the real (or fake, or made-up or…hmm….) er…once again existing in a state of consciousness and matter, took in her new surroundings.  Gone was the soothing starfield she had been floating in, and in its place was a sparkling, sandy white beach, under a perfect, cloudless blue sky.  The waves crashed onto the shore in time with the happy Jamaican steel-drum music coming seemingly from nowhere.  

            Turning, she spied a familiar rickety, old shack, the word "KAME" written in large letters on the roof.  

            "Oh no!" she whispered in mortal terror.  "Not him!  The Great Will hasn't set me up with…"  Backing away from the shack in horror, she tripped over something sticking up out of the sand.  Crashing onto the beach, she looked to see what she had tripped over and was blinded by a radiant white light.  

            Standing, guarding her eyes with her arm, she carefully maneuvered herself around the object, so the sun reflecting off of it would not blind her.  She was shocked to see the object was no 'object' at all, but rather a human head!  

            "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!" Sarie shrieked at the top of her lungs.

            "Yeah, I know," the head said.  "I'm hideous.  That's the response I get from most women…  Why me?"  

            "Y..y..you're not a severed human head at all, are you?" Sarie Mue asked, now beginning to recognize to whom she was speaking.  "You're Krillen!"  

            "Actually, my name is Kuririn, but none of my so-called friends have ever gotten it right.  I don't bother correcting them.  They'd probably just get mad and abandon me like everyone else," he said, letting out a long sigh.

            "Abandon you?" she asked Krillen's head.  (The rest of him appeared to be buried in the sand.)    

            "Yeah…" he replied.  "My girlfriend…my…M..M..MARON LEFT ME!" he cried, tears erupting from his eyes in gushing streams, making him appear like nothing so much as an unusually-shaped garden sprinkler.  

            "Oh!" exclaimed Sarie Mue.  "You were dating your own daughter?!!  That's sick!  That's just…wrong!"  

            Krillen paused his blubbering to look at her, confused.  "Daughter?  Maron was barely my girlfriend.  We certainly didn't have any kids, and I would never…Ew!  That's disgusting!"  

            Sarie Mue realized she had landed not in the Buu Saga as she had at first assumed, but rather between the Frieza and Cell sagas…perhaps around the Garlic Jr. episodes.  

            "Umm….sorry," she apologized.  "I must have been thinking of someone else."  

            Pausing, she looked closer at her reflection in Krillen's shiny head, realizing she'd not yet seen herself in this reality.  Her hair, an unnatural red, stood out in stark contrast to her fair skin and deep green eyes.  She wore a short, pleated white skirt and a matching yellow tank top over her stunningly rounded figure.  In her red hair, she wore a bright orange bow.  

            "Um…Why are you staring at me?" asked Krillen.  "And who are you?"  

            Sarie Mue felt a blush fall over her pale cheeks.  "I didn't mean to stare…" she said.  "It's just that you're so…ah…handsome!  Yeah!"  

            "You were checking your reflection in my shiny head, weren't you?" Krillen asked dejectedly.  

            "Uh…ah…that is…" she stammered.

            "It's okay," he said.  "I notice people doing it all the time.  In fact…my… MARON USED TO DO THE SAME THING!" he began to blubber again. 

            "But you asked who I was," she said quickly, hoping to stop him from watering the surrounding beach again.  She took a moment to brush her red hair behind her ear and turned her large green eyes on him.  

            "My name is…Sarie Mue…" she cooed.

            "Oh," was his only reply.  "That's nice."

            A look of determination came over his features.  "Well, if you don't mind, I'm kind of busy dying here.  I got my old teacher, Master Roshi, to bury me in the sand, so I can drown when the tide comes in, which should be about five minutes from now.  So, if you'll just be on your way, I'd like to spend my last few moments in peace."  

            Sarie looked to the sea and noticed the shore was slowly disappearing under the approaching waves as they crashed closer and closer…

            "No!" shouted Sarie.  "You can't die!  You have so much to live for!" 

            "Really?" asked Krillen.  "I'm a four foot tall, noseless, bald-headed ex-monk turned useless fighter with bowling ball finger holes tattooed on my forehead.  What exactly do I have to live for?  And, by the way, just what sort of a ridiculous name is Sarie Mue?"  

            "Well…" ignoring the comment about her name, which she thought was perfectly fine, she thought desperately, trying to find a reason why Krillen should live.  Reflecting on what little she knew of him, only one great motivator came to mind.  "I think noseless, short, bald-headed men are kind of cute.  And your bowling ball hole tattoos are really, really sexy!  Don't you at least want to get to know me better before you drown yourself?"  She flashed him her most plaintive, doe-eyed, anime-girl stare.

            Krillen gazed upward at her, appearing to reflect on that thought for a moment.  "Alright," he finally assented.  "I guess getting to know you a bit couldn't hurt."  

            Luckily, Sarie Mue didn't notice that Krillen, with his low vantage point and her short skirt, was already "getting to know" certain aspects of her better than she might approve of.  She quickly set to work digging him out as the tide crept closer and closer.  

            Just as she had loosened the dirt enough to offer him her hand to pull him up, a particularly large wave crashed over him.  

            "Krillen!" she screamed, worried he might be dragged away by the current.  

            Sputtering and coughing out seawater, Krillen found himself covered in seaweed, with several crabs latching onto his more tender parts with their sharp pinchers.  

            "Boowaahayayah!" he cried suddenly, jumping and hovering several feet in the air, pulling off crabs here and there and scooping seaweed out of his underwear.  "What am I, a California roll?"  

            Sarie Mue, not a fan of sushi, didn't quite understand his comment, but assisted in pulling off the remaining crabs.  

            "Wow!" said Sarie Mue.  "That's the worst case of crabs I've ever seen!"  

            (We apologize for the sophomoric sexual humor contained in the last paragraph.  Apparently the Funimation editors missed the connotations included in that particular comment.  We will now include the Funimation revised version of Sarie Mue's last statement.  Thank you for understanding.) 

            "Wow!" said Sarie Mue.  "The crustaceans pinching you must have caused great pain.  I am sorry for your suffering!"  

             Soaking wet and still sore from crab bites, Krillen sat in a heap on the beach.  

            "Why me?" he asked.  

            "Oh Krillen!" chirped Sarie Mue.  "I'm so glad you're not dead.  I just know that you'll love getting to know me!  I mean, I almost feel as though we were meant to be!  You might even be my soulmate!  I mean, you are really short…"

            Krillen's eyes flashed angrily toward her.

            "But," she continued quickly, "you're really, really muscular!"  

            "Thanks," replied Krillen uncertainly.  Then, trying to pour on a little of the old Kuririn charm, he added, "You're not so bad-looking yourself. " 

            "Oh!" she giggled happily.  "Thank you!"  

            "Well," Krillen said.  "If you're not going to let me kill myself, I guess I should introduce you to some of my friends.  I'm sure you'll love my best friend Goku, he…"

            "NO!" Sarie Mue shouted, interrupting him, "I DON'T WANT TO SEE THAT STINKING PIECE OF…" seeing his shocked expression, she stopped, realizing this was a different reality, and years before the point in time she met Goku, anyway.  "I mean," she began more quietly, "I'd really just like to spend some time alone with you before we bring anyone else into it."  

            "Really?" asked Krillen, surprised.  "No woman has ever wanted to spend time alone with me…well except…"

            "Na..ah…ah," Sarie interrupted.  "No thoughts of our past failures…er …relationships.  This is a fresh start for both of us.  Deal?"   

            "Deal," answered Krillen.  And for the first time in a long time, he actually smiled.  

            Taking her hand, they began to walk down the beach.  Looking up at her, he failed to realize there was a pile of discarded kelp at his feet.  

            "WoaoaoaoaaaAAAAH!" he shouted slipping on the slick seaweed.  His sudden downfall dragged Sarie Mue down with him.  "EEEEEEEEEEK!" she squealed, falling on the sand.  

            Landing on top of him, she suddenly found herself reminiscing about that classic love scene…in her mind, she was Debra Kerr, and Krillen was…well…short, bald, noseless, and ugly…  But he _did have great muscles, and he seemed really nice.  Acting on impulse, she leaned in to kiss him…  Just as another gigantic wave crashed on top of them.  _

            Five minutes later, as they finished de-kelping and de-crabbing themselves, Sarie Mue took a moment to try to remove sand from places where sand just shouldn't be.

            "What the hell was Debra Kerr thinking?" she said. 

            "What?" asked a confused Krillen, a sea snail crawling across the barren desert of his head.  "Why me?" he muttered as he removed it with a loud, slimy-sounding _POP!_ __

            "Never mind," Sarie replied, thinking it best to just keep walking.  

            Continuing, hand in hand, along the warm beach, they began to dry off in the pleasant tropical sun.  As the loud Jamaican music began to slow into a pleasant romantic theme, Sarie found herself smiling.  

            They talked about many things.  Krillen shared with her his hopes, his dreams, his numerous fears…  Sarie liked him more and more, finding they shared many things in common – many of the same insecurities, humiliating experiences, psychoses…  

            As the sun shifted into rich, red hues and sank beneath the horizon, tones of pink and violet radiated warmly in the sky, creating a soft glow around the newly-formed couple.  Looking to the south, Sarie saw a brilliant full moon beginning to shine as the day waned into night.

            "Did I ever tell you about the time Master Roshi used my head as a full moon to help a werewolf?" Krillen asked.  

            "Yes," she said.  "But please tell me again!  You're just so fascinating."  

            Krillen laughed, and looked down at his feet, embarrassed.  

            "Oh look!" he said.  "What a lovely seashell."  Stooping to pick it up, he smiled at her.  "I know we're already on the beach, but I love listening to the sound of the ocean inside shells."  

            He began to place the shell against his ear…

-------------------------------------------------

            Meanwhile, the Great Will of the Cosmos smiled at her handiwork.  "I've finally done it," she said with a contented sigh.  "Aaaah…young love.  And just on the third try, too.  He adores her, she adores him.  The shallow little twit even got over him being short, bald, noseless, and ugly.  Look at them gazing into each other's eyes!  He's picked up a seashell for her…It's very pretty.  But…uh-oh…isn't that the shell of the…"

-------------------------------------------------

            The spiny screaming crab of death was sleeping peacefully inside its shell.  The grotesque creature had spent a busy day screaming and…being spiny.  It had even had the pleasure of slaughtering a pesky sea turtle that had knocked over its shell earlier.  The exquisitely painful venom of its spines had disintegrated the pathetic animal's heart in only a few moments…but not before its piercing scream had caused the turtle's brain to rupture.  The spiny screaming crab of death had smiled, in its spiny, screaming way, as the turtle's eyes had exploded out of its sockets and it began bleeding simultaneously from every orifice.  Yes.  Life is good when you're a spiny screaming crab of death.  

            However, the monstrosity's rest was again being disturbed…looking out of its shell it saw…the moon approaching?  No…that would be impossible.  It looked like the cavernous shell of another spiny screaming crab of death approaching to challenge his territory!  Fine then…if it wanted a fight, it would get a fight…

 -------------------------------------------------

            "Just listen to that ocean," Krillen said, holding the shell against his ear.  He let out a happy sigh at the peace of the moment.  "AaaaaaAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

            His scream of agony mingled with the piercing screech of the spiny screaming crab of death rose and echoed across the night sky.

            "RRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECK!" The spiny screaming crab of death, hearing Krillen's scream, interpreted it as a challenge and redoubled its efforts.

            "RRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKCKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECK!" its scream seemed to go on forever. 

            Krillen, falling to the ground and covering his ears, felt a wet sticky fluid covering the ear he had put against the shell.  Pulling his hand away, he saw his ear was bleeding from a small wound.  That's when he felt the burning, acidic poison flowing through his veins, down his neck, spreading like a blanket of perfect agony across his whole body.  

            Sarie, having immediately run away upon hearing Krillen's scream, was safely out of fatal distance of the cry of the spiny screaming crab of death.  She looked in horror from afar, as Krillen's body twitched and writhed in agony before finally becoming dead still.  She saw the shell crawl slowly away from his inert form, kicking a little sand in Krillen's face before waddling off.  

-------------------------------------------------

            One month later, Krillen was pushing Sarie Mue onto a boat leaving the island.  

            "I don't care," he said.  "I know you spent weeks nursing me back to health, but believe me when I said it was a bad idea.  Now go away so I can die in peace!"

            With a final shove, despite her indignant protests, he pushed Sarie Mue onto the boat, and gave it a solid kick, sending it jumping across the water like a skipping stone before she could even get seated. 

            "Finally," he said.  

            He quickly hopped into the hole he had prepared.  He buried himself as best as he could, and prepared to bite down on the capsule in his mouth.  If it worked properly, it should paralyze him completely, lest he have second thoughts as the ocean covered him and took him to sweet oblivion.  He awaited the coming tide with a sense of gleeful anticipation.  

            "There'll be no more getting humiliated…no more bad romances…no more getting beat up by aliens.  No more Maron…no more Sarie Mue…and most of all, no spiny screaming crabs of death," he said, biting down on the capsule.  

            He stared blankly forward as the tide came in.  It should only be another half hour or so.  Then it was bye-bye Kuririn.  

            As he could not move his eyes, he failed to notice a shell shuffling up behind him.  It was time for the spiny screaming crab of death to molt and find a new shell.  It had decided it liked the shiny round shell sitting on the edge of the beach.  So large, so round, so inviting…

            As the creature entered its new home, the motionless Krillen was screaming inside his head…screaming louder even than a spiny screaming crab of death…but no one heard him.  Yes, it was bye-bye for Kuririn.

            Meanwhile, back on the boat, Sarie sat in a true huff.  It had been so perfect.  Well, there were the pratfalls… and the spiny screaming crab of death… and the hiding from Master Roshi, who never figured out she was on the island, while simultaneously caring for Krillen…

            Ok, so it hadn't been so perfect.  

_But the nerve of him!  I'M the one who cared about him when he was sick.  I'M the one who actually took him seriously.  I'M the one who saw past the fact the he was short, bald, noseless, and ugly.  And he just pushes me off the island in a rowboat.  Well, he and that $%##@#$% (Funimation translation: meanie) Goku deserve to be friends._

Sarie sniffled to herself, drawing her long fair legs to her chest, and waited for this reality to end.  _All right, Great Will, let's see if you got anything better._

-------------------------------------------------

Far from hearing Sarie Mue's plea for a quick change of venue, the Great Will of the Cosmos had more pressing problems to deal with.

"I should have never loosed such a formidable force," she said to herself dolefully, still twirling the tiny golden ring around in her slender fingers.

"I warned you of the corruption of the One Ring," Galadriel said, clutching at the strings of her dignity and superiority.

The Great Will turned in surprise.  "Are you still here?  Didn't I send you back?  And what are you talking about, pray tell?"

Galadriel's eyes seemed to radiate mystical force as she levitated, wrapping herself in blue-black fire as her voice echoed, "One ring to rule them all, one ring to find them.  One ring to…"

"What, you mean this old thing?" the Great Will said offhandedly, effectively ending the elvin witch's impressive display of special effects.  "It doesn't have any effect on me, silly.  I'm already all-powerful, and you know it.  I was just borrowing it to go along with the theme… and to piss you off.  Besides, it's pretty.  I think it just gets a bad rap."

If Galadriel had been an anime character, huge sweatdrops would have been hanging from various part of her face and she would have face-faulted.  As it was, she was a character in the most influential fantasy/mythology books ever written, so she merely gave her best "freaky wide-eyed Elijah Wood/Froddo" impression.

"No," the Great Will continued, fortunately not looking at the lady elf.  "This is a force far greater than the One Ring, for none can escape or destroy.  I was wrong to free it from its reality, and already someone has paid for my lack of foresight."

At the women's feet… well… at Galadriel's feet and the bottom of the Great Will's starfield laid the body of one James T. Kirk… er… William Shatner.  Strewn about the floor around the body were ornate Japanese hair-sticks, the partially-written manuscript of his latest book based on _Star Trek: Generations, and a frying pan with the perfect replica of Shatner's face imprinted on it and the label "Overused Fanfiction Characterization Device."  _

Galadriel gasped, her face blanching to a whiter shade of pale (cue organ music).  "That isn't…"

"Yes," the Great Will answered.  "Chichi has escaped."

She sighed and picked up the frying pan, glancing down at the now-deceased sci-fi has-been.  "Oh, well.  It's not all that bad.  She _did get rid of that annoying twit, and I think they can use this pan to make the mask if they do another __Halloween movie."_

Before Galadriel could object, or even comment, the Great Will of the Cosmos did away with the pretentious nuisance, as well as the shiny bauble she'd been playing with for the entire chapter.  "Now, where was I…  Ah, yes.  Krillen should be waking up by now."

Kirk's corpse melted away, changing into a small white cube, making way for the Great Will of the Cosmos to check on her handiwork.

"Oh, my," she exclaimed.  The scene before her showed yet another corpse… that of Krillen, the noseless wonder.  "I suppose I should have gotten rid of that spiny screaming crab of death after all.  Well, better bring Krillen back to life.  That timeline is about to get plenty screwed up without his… well… another of his untimely demises," she mused.

The scene skewed out into the ocean, where an emaciated, painfully sunburned Sarie Mue sat in a nearly submerged rowboat, patiently waiting for death.  The Great Will of the Cosmos sighed.  The disaster of Chichi would have to wait.  

-------------------------------------------------

As the hours turned into days, Sarie Mue slowly withered from lack of food and water, though Funimation wouldn't allow the effects of dehydration and starvation to get too graphic, and she became fully acquainted with the inconveniences of having fair skin in a tropical climate as her skin became fully acquainted with how many shades of red that exist.

Finally getting fed up, Sarie stood up in the rowboat, ignoring the nearly overbearing sting of her skin.  "All right, Great Will!  Enough!  Send me somewhere else, already!"

Unfortunately, after days of floating in an endless ocean, the already rickety rowboat was on its last legs (oars?).  Giving one final creak, the boat relinquished its burden and began a new life as driftwood. 

 Sarie, on the other hand, began her new role as a drowning victim.  She sank further and further into the sea, ignoring the small red crab and the yellow and aqua striped guppy, who seemed to have her confused with someone else.  But before she could correct them, the red-headed fangirl lost consciousness.

Fortunately, it was this precise moment that the Great Will of the Cosmos decided the step in.  The cold wet oblivion of the ocean disappeared, and Sarie felt the warm comfort of the now-familiar starfield.  She smiled slightly, thankful to finally be out that predicament, and ready to seek a new soulmate, maybe someone not so pathetic, maybe try…

**Chapter 4: #17**


	4. 17

**Author's Notes: ** I don't like dictating.  (hahaha)  Stop it!  (more laughter)  Okay.  This is unromantic poetess dictating to howler, because he won't get out from in front of the keyboard.  (snickering)  I personally find it extremely annoying, but I have to humor the old boy.  He has a hard enough time putting up with me.  (_And how!_)  (laughter)  That's enough from **you!  Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter.  We finally crawled out from the cave we've been inhabiting called the horrible real life to bring you yet another episode in the quest of Sarie Mue.  (_Hey, we've got to do reviewer thanks.)  Umm…  I know, I know…  _**

Thanks to all our reviewers:  Wolves141, Omega (Hey, thanks for checking out one of my other stories!  This person was the first, and for a while the only, reader and reviewer for my longest story, The Soul.  I plugged this story in The Soul, and I'm glad to see that the self-promotion brought results.  Welcome, Omega!), Lil' Shady (Good observation on the Little Mermaid reference.  Very minute pop culture reference, though.  The spiny screaming crab of death was pulled from one comic strip of Garfield.  Really too obscure for anyone to pick up, though.), and Dark Wolf (Sorry to hear about your original fic.  I was really looking forward to reading it.  Oh well.  Hope you can come out with something soon.).

**Co-Author's Notes: **Hello, True Believers!  I also would like to thank our gracious reviewers.  After all, if a Fanfic author writes a Fanfic in the woods, and there are no reviewers there to review it, would the bear that got hit by the tree eat the Fanfic author while no one was looking?  Probably.  But regardless, it is nice to know that there are people who are enjoying our little opus.  (No, it's not dirty.  Look it up!)  I know it's been slow-going so far, but once school starts back (approximately 45 days) then we'll be able to work on these more and get them out faster.  Until then bear (not in the woods) with us!   ****

**Disclaimer: **We do not own Dragonball Z.  If we did, we'd be out enjoying being filthy, stinking rich instead of writing fanfictions.  Not that we don't enjoy writing fanfictions…  Anyway, we are disclaimed.

**Prologue: **As random images of Sarie Mue's various exploits flashed by in quick succession, a man with a distinguished British accent began to speak.  "In every generation," he said in a smooth, masculine voice, "there are many rabid fangirls.  But now there is a chosen one…One girl in all the world to live out her terrible self-insertion romance fanfics, her unlikely scenarios and shallow plots…She is Sarie Mue."

Pausing to wipe his glasses with a handkerchief, Giles looked to the floating starfield with its delicate, graceful arms.  Giles particularly admired her feminine hands.  They looked both soft and capable at the same time.  _The hands of a scholar, he thought._

"I trust that will be satisfactory?" he asked the Great Will of the Cosmos, raising one eyebrow in a sophisticated gesture of askance.  

"Yes!  Quite so," she replied, impressed with his solid delivery.  "So, before I send you back to help Fluffy…" 

"Buffy," he corrected politely.

"Whatever…the show should be called 'Giles' anyway," she said.

"Show?" he asked.  "Do you mean to say that the reality in which I exist is perhaps, in another temporal plane or dimension, a television show?  My life is someone else's entertainment?"  

_For this, I could almost ditch Pedro,_ she thought, admiring the watcher's keen intellect and calm in what would to anyone else be an impossible situation.  "Yes, you have it exactly right, but I will have to erase that tidbit from your memory when I send you back…Hawthorne effect and all that."  

"Ah.  I quite agree," he replied, with a sage nod. 

"But as I was saying, before you go back, could you pleeeeaaaase sing a song?  Maybe you could finish up that rendition of Freebird you were doing when Spike walked in and surprised you that time.  Please?" for the first time in eons, the voice of the Great Will had taken on a note of pleading.  

"I would love to," he said.  "But I feel I really should get back to where I belong.  I should hate for my existence here to cause any temporal anomalies or that sort of thing.  It could endanger the space-time continuum as we know it.  I'm sure you're familiar with the theory…a butterfly flaps its wings and causes a hurricane hundreds of miles away…"

"Yes," she said with a sad sigh.  "The pesky chaos theory…But it's impossible to predict what effects it could have."  

"That _is why they call it chaos, after all," Giles said with a gentlemanly reserved smile.   _

_Ooooh__…when I'm not so busy I'm going to pull him out of that cursed series and show him the time of his life the Great Will thought to herself.  _Heck…I'll show him the time of several billion lives…Does the show really need him through the sixth and seventh seasons?  I could borrow him…let him do a few episodes every now and then…hmm…__

Out loud, she sighed.  "Well, I suppose you should get back to saving everyone in Sunnydale while all the credit goes to blondie and the Scooby gang."  

With a wave of her hand, Giles disappeared.  

"Now then…it's time to get back to Sarie Mue.  I think this time, I'll set her up with someone a little different…  Someone handsome, with boyish good looks…but with that touch of a dark side that those idiot human girls seem to rush to like a moth to a flame.  Someone like…"

**Chapter 4: # 17  **

Jolted to her senses once more, Sarie Mue, rabid fangirl on the rampage, took in her newest new surroundings.  She found herself in the middle of what she recognized to be Satan City.  In amidst the skyscrapers were many billboards and signs with Hercule's picture on them, with quaint sayings like, "Thank God for Satan!" and "Satan is our friend!"  

Walking down the sidewalk, she paused in front of a mirrored glass building to examine her latest look.  She saw in the mirror a middle-aged, squat woman with a scowling face and a hawkish nose.  She was wearing a wrinkled business suit and was talking loudly on a cell phone, screaming at whoever was on the other end!  

_Oh no! _thought Sarie Mue, _I'm hideous!  Why would the Great Will make me look like this?_

It was only after the woman on the other side of the glass pane walked away that Sarie realized that while the rest of the building was mirrored glass, the first floor was clear.  

With a sigh of relief, Sarie walked further down the sidewalk, pausing in front of an antique shop window to look into a full-length antique mirror on display.

Her long blue hair cascaded down her back in waves, setting of her purple eyes beautifully.  She wore a loose-fitting summer dress made of a material only slightly more opaque than gauze, which flitted in the light breeze.  As usual, her form was no less than stunning, curvy while still slightly athletic.  

_Well, that's a relief_, she thought to herself.  _Now, who's the lucky man I'm going to fall in love with forever and spend the rest of my life with?_

Deciding to window shop until Mr. Right happened along, she continued on her way.  She paused to look into an electronics store, listening to the music blasting from a discount boombox they had in the window.  

The song had just switched to an old disco tune as HE came around the corner.

_Well you can tell by the way I use my walk..._

He wore a black shirt with just the top few buttons undone, leaving room for his yellow bandana to fit comfortably around his neck.

_I'm a woman's man – no time to talk…_

His brown hiking shoes hit the pavement right in time with the music, as Sarie watched his muscular legs rippling under his Buddy Lee™ jeans.  

_Music loud and women warm, I've been kicked around since I was born…_

She recognized his flawless face instantly…perfect features framed by straight, jet black hair, swaying gently with each step.

_And now it's all right. It's OK.  And you may look the other way.  We can try to understand the __New York__ Time's effect on man._

Sarie was awestruck.  _Seeing him up close_, she thought, _he's like a dark-haired Leonardo DiCaprio_.  And still the music played on…

_Whether you're a brother or whether you're a mother, you're stayin' alive, stayin' alive._

This was Android 17.  

Pausing by the window, 17 paused, his ice blue eyes flashing suddenly toward the boombox.  "I've never shot a Ki blast into a store shop window to destroy a radio playing a disco song before," he muttered quietly to himself.  

_Ah ah ah ah stayin' ali…_ **_KA-BOOOM!_**  

The brothers Gibb were suddenly silenced in a blast of white light.  

"Well, that was fun," said 17, his voice cold and indifferent.  

As the store owner and the customers ran from the store screaming, Sarie Mue just stared at the scene before her, her cute mouth slightly agape.  "He just destroyed an entire storefront without any thought for human life.  He just pointed and blew it up for the fun of it.  He's so…so…"

17 walked by her without giving a second glance to her or the destruction he'd left in his wake, a slight breeze from his stride causing her summer dress to stir.

"So SEXY!  OhmygodheisjustthemosttodieforstudIhaveeverseeninmyentirelife!"

Running after him, she called out to him.  "Seventeen!  Oh!  Android seventeen?" 

He stopped walking, turning his head halfway over his shoulder, his back still toward her.  

"Why would a pathetic human be calling my designation number?" he asked, his tone so flat she could not tell whether the question was addressed to her or himself. 

"I just saw what you did," she began, trembling slightly in fear.  "You just blew up half of that building.  You don't seem to have any emotion at all.  I don't think you care about anyone or anything but yourself…so I was just wondering…"

The one ice blue eye he had deigned to turn toward her continued to stare piercingly at her, showing no more concern for her than an insect or a weed.

"Will you go out with me?" she asked hopefully.  _I just know I can change him, she thought to herself._

He now turned fully toward her.  The shock of seeing both of his perfectly symmetrical, pale blue eyes on her almost causing her to faint.  

"Are all human females this pathetic?," he asked himself quietly.  "She admitted that she realizes I have no emotion whatsoever – especially not concern or interest in her, yet she wishes to engage in pre-mating behavior with me?" 

Finally speaking to her, he said, "I think I should probably kill you."  A ball of white light appeared on the tip of his finger, as he pointed it in her direction.  

Sarie, terrified for her life, cowered back, tripping over her own feet and falling to the pavement.  _He's going to kill me_, she thought.  _And yet he looks so sexy doing it…_

"But," continued 17 aloud, "I have never been in a…" he paused, searching for the unfamiliar word, "relationship with a human."  The ball of white light flicked out.  "I accept your offer," he said, having decided in the same instant not to end her life and to be her boyfriend with as much concern as he would have shown deciding what flavor of  donut to have.  

Sarie Mue, being utterly afraid for her life, was somewhat slow on the uptake.  "You're not going to kill me?" she asked weakly.  

"I've never had a girlfriend before," he said.  "So I'll try you for one day and see how it turns out.  I'll most likely kill you in the morning."  

Sarie thought briefly about running.  _But he looks so good in his Buddy Lee's™…  "Okay," she said.  _

17, who had not been particularly interested in her response was already gazing around the city.  "Where shall we go on our…date…then?  What activities usually occur prior to mating behavior?"  

"Well…" Sarie Mue began.  "We could…ah…do you eat?"  

"I do not necessarily require food in the way you do, but I can take sustenance that way," he responded.  

"Great!  So what kind of food do you like?" she asked, hopeful that they might actually have a 'normal' date.  

"Taste is irrelevant," was his only reply.  "So long as it is not anything I've had before.  I gain enjoyment from new experiences.  Much as with this 'dating' experiment, the quality and nature of that which is involved is not nearly so important as the new experience."  

"Oh!" said Sarie Mue cheerily, not having picked up on the fact that she'd been insulted.  "Well, have you ever eaten pizza?"  

"Yes." 

"Burgers?"

"Yes."  

"Tacos?  Spaghetti?  Sushi?  Chicken?  Steak?  Duck?  Porkchops?  Pheasant?  Veal?  Greek Feta?  Venezuelan Beaver Cheese?"

"Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes."

17 glanced over his shoulder at a passing bazooka player.  "I've never killed a bazooka player," he mumbled to himself as he nonchalantly brought both the music and the player to a fiery end, the odd, piped instrument turning to ash.

"W-well," said Sarie Mue…  "I'm sure we'll think of something you've never eaten before…"  

Five hours later, in one of the city's more expensive restaurants, having finished a meal of roast caribou with raspberry sauce and a side of roast corn all served over a bed of spinach leaves, 17 looked at Sarie Mue.  "Did you approve of this meal?" he asked.  

After she finished vomiting under the table, Sarie Mue sat back up.  "That was the most disgusting thing I've ever eaten!" she said.  

"Yes," agreed 17.  "It was truly horrible.  What a wonderful new experience."  

"Are you going to get the bill?" asked Sarie Mue.  

"No.  I think I'll just destroy the restaurant."  His hand began to glow with white light.  

"NO!  I mean…I'll pay," she said quickly.  

After leaving the restaurant, 17 looked expectantly at her.  "What inane human activity shall we engage in next?" he asked.  

"Well, we could…go to a movie?"  

"I've already done that once," he said.  

"We could go ice skating." 

"Already done it."

"Bungee jumping?"

"Done it."

"We could go see a play?" 

"Done it."  

Three hours later, having thrown out every sane suggestion she could think of, Sarie Mue was angry.  

"Fine, we'll go spray paint a Siamese Cat green!  Have you done that?  Have you?  Huh?"

He looked at her thoughtfully.  "…"

----One hour later----

"Fascinating," said 17.  "The feline was quite frantic after the first coat.  The three succeeding layers and waterproofing seemed to calm it down, though."  

"It was not calm!  It was dead!" screamed Sarie Mue, her face still streaked with tears.  "You killed someone's cat!  You're just sick!  Sick!" 

"I am incapable of becoming ill," replied 17.  "Besides, it was your idea."  

This set Sarie Mue to bawling again, clutching a green-smeared collar which read, "Fluffy" close to her ample heaving bosom.  

"I see no point in your emotional outbursts," said 17.  "Let us return to my home."  

Picking her up, he flew away with her to a small log cabin in the mountains.  Sarie Mue could not tell what country they were in.  She only knew that Satan City was far away.  The long trip gave her time to recover her composure.  

Upon arriving at the cabin, 17 turned his gaze on her.  "Very well.  I trust I have met the requirements of your pre-mating behavior rituals.  We will now…

Greetings from the Funimation censors.  In keeping with good taste and series continuity, we shall continue to provide acceptable substitutions for all objectionable content.  Thank you for understand. 

"play MahJong," said 17.  

"What?!  You force me to eat a raspberry caribou, slaughter Fluffy like a madman, and then just expect me to play MahJong for you?  Why you…you…"

She stared into his ice blue eyes, taking in his DiCapriesque features and his stylish Buddy Lee™ jeans.    

"Okay," she said, dazed.  

----The next morning----

Sarie looked lazily at 17, who was busily plugging himself into…a wall outlet.  (What were you thinking, you sicko?)  

"Good morning, 17," she said cheerily.  "What are you doing?"

"I am recharging my internal battery," he replied simply.  

"I guess it really needed recharging after last night," she said suggestively.

"No more than at any other time," he said, his voice stereotypically flat.  "I am merely taking advantage of a convenient energy source."

"Oh," Sarie said, slightly disappointed.  Then, brightening up, she walked over to him, the bed sheet wrapped around her providing her only covering.  (Though why she would use the sheet to protect her modesty after the obviously suggested events of the MahJong marathon of the night before, who knows?  But women always seem to do that in movies and cartoons, so ~~~)

"So," she purred into 17's ear.  "Are you up for another game of MahJong?" 

He turned his ice blue eyes towards her.  "But we've already played MahJong.  I have already gained that experience.  What would be the point in playing another game?"  

"But…" she protested weakly.  "I thought we…I mean I…didn't you enjoy playing MahJong?  Am I not a good MahJong player?"  She seemed on the verge of tears. 

"Why do you insist on attaching emotions to every data-gathering experience?" he asked her coldly.  "As I said, I have already gained the data I need for that particular experience.  It would be a waste of time to further pursue the activity."  

"But…but…" Sarie Mue burst into tears – not the gushing fountain of action anime tears, but the large twin streams of tears of drama anime running down her face.  The soundtrack softened into a soft, poignant piano piece highlighted by a cello counterpoint.  The room melted away, leaving Sarie Mue falling backward into a misty, orange-colored emotional void as her misery consumed her.  Her voice echoed inside her head…  "I really…thought…he loved me…"

"The human female appears to be falling into an emotion void of misery," muttered 17 to himself.  "She has become an inconvenience.  In fact, I do not believe I have ever had the experience of disintegrating someone I played MahJong with…"

Sarie Mue's misty orange-colored emotional void was interrupted by a flash of white light, and was quickly replaced by an endless starfield filled with swirling galaxies.

Meanwhile, 17 pondered his newest new experience.  "I wonder what the human female's name was?"  

Giving an almost imperceptible shrug, 17 continued to go over the data of the previous day's new experiences.  "The only thing that deserves further study is perhaps the effects of the use of paint products on small domesticated animals.  I've never painted a hamster, after all."

                                                                 *****

The Great Will of the Cosmos floated in the middle of a hallway in a now-deserted building.  Various small rooms looked to be hastily vacated, with personal belongings strewn everywhere, giving away the haste of every departure.  The Great Will shook her… uh… head.  "I am too late," she whispered dolefully.

Her foreboding grew with every name she read off, clearly printed on the doors of each room.  Yamcha.  Menchi.  Krillen.  Pedro.  Neville Longbottom.  Yajirobe.  Samwise Gamgee.  Wile E. Coyote.  Wesley Crusher.  Elmer Fudd.  Wesley Windham Price.  Robin.  Donald Duck.  Jonathan Levenson.  Uhura.  C-3PO.  Jar Jar Binks.  And… too many to mention.

"She's building an army."

Taking one final look, the Great Will of the Cosmos seemed to shrug it off momentarily.  Making her way out of the building, a prominent sign above the door of the previously guarded fortress read: **St. Stan Laurel's Rest Home for Chronically Abused Minor Characters.**

"I suppose I'll have to attend to Sarie Mue first though," the Great Will said to herself with an exasperated sigh.  "I'm going to have to go in a whole other direction this time.  I certainly have enough to worry about with Chichi building what promises to be an extremely irate and vindictive army.  

Perhaps the problem is that the men so far have been too petty, too small-minded.  Sarie needs someone grand, someone noble, someone in a position of power.  She needs someone like…

**Chapter 5: The Supreme Kai**


	5. The Supreme Kai

**Disclaimer: **We do not own Dragonball Z.  And, if we're naming things that we don't own, let's not stop there.  An existentialist might argue that no one truly "owns" anything.  Who can really own anything?  Who can own a tree?  We are but temporal visitors - if, therefore, our lives are limited by time, then what good is the concept of ownership?  At best, we could argue a temporary claim of possession, but even that is limited by how many others could lay a claim to it.  A man can say he owns a forest, but the wolves or animals that inhabit that forest might claim it as their own.  Therefore, what is ownership but an illusion by which we attempt to gain status over others?  Property is one of the entrapments that tie us to…  Oh.  I guess we do need to get on with it don't we?  Anyway, we don't own DBZ, and we're not evil copyright infringers.  So there.  :p

**Author's (and Co-Author's) Notes:  **Nothing too profound to say here, despite our disclaimer.  Took us a WHILE to get this chapter out.  Conflicting schedules are so hard.  For Poetess, there was a retreat to work.  For Howler, there was wisdom teeth to get cut out.  *sigh*  Much busyness and pain all around.  But finally, we come through.  As you knew we would.  And now, to thank all our reviewers.

Lil Shady:  Yeah.  Barry go boom.  And remember.  Characters will be either slightly OOC (such as #17… and possibly Trunks) or painfully IC (like Goku, obviously).  We don't know how #17 developed as a character, because he never did.  We see him briefly in the Buu saga holding a rifle to people in order to get them to raise their hands, and we see him in GT, joining with Hellfighter #17 to form Super #17.  Not too much to base a character on.  It was a bit of a difficult chapter to write.

Wolves141:  Thanks.  : )

Dark Wolf:  Yeah, poor Sarie Mue.  At least, until this chapter.  We may not make her play MahJong this time.  That's gotta be wearing on anyone, even a rabid fangirl on the rampage.  Oh, and when are you getting your story out?  I've been checking (almost) every day.  Suggestion for the sequel to A Saiyan's Worth.  You could do a post-DBGT story of Vegeta making his own worth, now as the strongest defender of Earth with Goku gone.  If you've watched all of DBGT, you'll know that Vegeta is a little less pathetic than the demi-Saiyans, but not by much.  That's certainly an interesting way to go.

The Cat's Meow:  Thanks for the flattering review!  I have seen enough mediocre and downright embarrassing writing on this site, so I'm determined not to be written off along with the rest of them.  Are you an author?

Omega:  Omega-chan!  Yeah, I'm… having a bit of trouble with "The Soul" right now.  I thought, now that I've gotten to the real action, that everything would be smooth sailing.  I think Lil Shady is right.  I think that the summer just makes for witlessness.  But I'm finally working on it.  It should be out in the next few weeks.  Yes, I've been a Buffy fan since the end of the second season, and Howler has been a Buffy fan since the first season.  So sad to see the show go, and on such a weak note (in our humble opinion).  And no, you really didn't read too much into the Seven of Nine thing.  Howler is a big fan of Star Trek Voyager, so the character borrowed a little influence from that.  We're both reminiscent fans of The Original Series, and extreme fans of Star Trek: The Next Generation.  Deep Space Nine… was an embarrassment.  And Howler's seen a bit more of Enterprise than I have, but that's not saying much.  For a while, we didn't get UPN.  Just a little FYI for what I take to be a fellow Star Trek fan.  Enjoy your vacation!

**Prologue: **The Great Will of the Cosmos was upset.  She was complaining, loudly, of her recent problems to poor, poor Pedro.  

            "It's not fair, Pedro!  I try to add some class to this whole Sarie Mue thing by bringing in some of the great philosophical minds of earth's history, and what does it get me?  Nothing!"

            Pedro cowered before her.  "Please…Pedro is sorry he tried to escape…just let Pedro go back to his adorable son and sexy, sexy wife…please?"  

            "Beg later, Pedro!  I have REAL problems to worry about.  As if 'the resistance' wasn't giving me enough trouble…that woman…trying to steal away my Pedro…"  With a sigh, she shrugged off her worries about Chichi and the others to return to the matter at hand.  

            "I brought in René Descartes to announce, and do you know what he said?  He said I was 'an evil demon' and that I was trying to trick him with 'automatons.'  Me!  I hate automatons.  They give me hives.  That one wanted a job from me, and I sent her to fly a ship on Outlaw Star…but as a rule I NEVER deal with automatons.  And then do you know who I thought would be a good announcer?  Hmm?  Do you, Pedro?"

            Pedro whimpered.  

            "That's right!  Socrates!  So I brought him here, and all he would talk about was 'being excellent to each other' and if I would take him to visit Billy the Kid!  On second thought, I don't even know if he would be a good announcer.  Everything he says is Greek to me…

            "So then, I thought, 'Hey, why not Nietzsche?  He's always good for a laugh.'  But he was busy.  He was arguing with some dead composer over whether he should have the rights to the _2001: A Space Odyssey theme.  (Quick Author's Note insert: 10 points to anyone who can figure out THAT one!)  _

            "Finally, I thought.  'What about good old Thoreau?  He won't let me down.'  But all he wanted to talk about was watching two bugs fight on a chip of tree bark at that stupid pond of his!  I can't believe they even call him a philosopher!  He's more like an exceptionally wordy bum!  Don't you think, Pedro?"

            Pedro merely cried silently, curling up into a fetal position.  

            "I even went so far as to consider Bill Watterson…not a philosopher in the classical sense, but close enough.  But the man was dressed up in a hood and cape and tried to throw a stuffed tiger at me.  That guy really needs to get back to writing…he needs an outlet…    

            "So here I am.  No announcer, no fun philosophers to torture, and frankly I'm sick of it, Pedro!  Just sick of it!  Do you hear me?  Pedro?  Ped…ro?"  Her voice faltered as she realized she was talking to herself.  She looked down on the ground and saw a folded note.  Reaching with her delicate, feminine hand, she picked it up, noting the insignia of a frying pan with Japanese hair pins forming a cross over the handle.  Unfolding it, she read aloud.

            "Beware the chronically abused minor characters…courtesy of…'_Le Resistance'"_

            And the Great Will of the Cosmos screamed.

**Chapter 5: The Supreme Kai**

Sarie Mue shuddered as reality snapped violently in place around her…a little too violently.  What was up with the Great Will?  Was it that time of the millennium for her or something?  

            Sarie Mue looked around to find herself surrounded by idyllic, pastoral scenery.  The lush green grass spread forever with lakes, trees, and solitary high plateaus marking the landscape.

            "Wow!" she exclaimed.  "Look at all those strange flat-topped mesas, just sticking up from the ground…that's so odd.  I've only seen those in a few isolated areas on Earth, but they seem to be the primary feature of every alien planet!"  

            She wondered idly which alien planet she was on.  The grass was green, and the water was blue, so it couldn't be Namek.  The sky wasn't yellow, so it wasn't Yardratt.  Everything wasn't red like on Vegeta…or Vulcan.  

            Passing a pristinely blue pool of water, she looked down at her reflection.  Her gigantic hazel eyes matched perfectly with her waist-length dark-brown hair.  Her figure, as usual, was stunning, but her clothes…

            She blinked in surprise.

            She was wearing a skort that barely made it halfway down her thighs, but rather than the skimpy top she had come to expect, in keeping with traditional anime female stereotypes, she was wearing what appeared to be a navy-blue military jacket with puffy purple sleeves.  The ridiculous outfit could only be the traditional garb of…

            "THE SUPREME KAI DEMANDS AN AUDIENCE WITH THE INTERLOPER!" a gravelly voice shouted in her ear.  

            Flipping upside down in shock, she hovered for a moment, taking in the silly-looking, yet still imposing figure of Kibito.  His gargoylesque face was twisted into an angry glare atop his seven foot tall pink body.    

            Sarie Mue gave a weak smile before physics caught up with her, dumping her unceremoniously onto the ground in a pile of shapely limbs.  

            "Interloper?" she asked, somewhat confused.  "I'm a good girl, I am!  I've never done any such thing as interloping!"  

            Kibito's head seemed to swell to three times its normal size as he screamed at her, "Stop your whining!  Get up and stop laying there like a squashed cabbage leaf!  You have trespassed here, violating the sanctity and purity of the Kai Planet!  I should destroy you right now for your impertinent, impudent, impossible behavior, you filthy, scum-sucking, monkey-kissing..."

            "Kibito," said a quiet voice, interrupting his tirade.  

            Kibito's gigantic pink eyes went wide in shock as he turned around and fell to one knee before the small, unimposing figure of Kaioshin, the Supreme Kai.  

            "Yes, Supreme Kai?  What do you command?" Kibito asked, averting his gaze to the ground.  

            Sarie Mue did not even see Shin's hand move as he slapped Kibito across the face.  "Shut up," he said calmly.  

            Kibito rubbed at the bright purple handprint on his face, afraid even to apologize aloud.  

            "Now," the Supreme Kai said, taking in the figure of Sarie Mue.  "Perhaps you could explain why and how you have come here, where no mortal has ever set foot before?"  

            Sarie Mue was speechless.  She slowly took in the short, purple, mohawked figure before her, his black, beady eyes peering at her curiously.  "Um…  I don't know?" she said tentatively.

            "I see," was his terse reply.

            "Master," Kibito's voice rang out as he momentarily forgot his earlier command and punishment, "perhaps she is a spy, sent by the wizard Babadi to find our secrets for his own exploitation or to taint the sanctity of this world with the evil of his magic."

            Again a small purple hand whipped out, knocking the Kai's servant off his feet.  Kibito whimpered as he got up, small tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

            "That was for talking," came the calm reply of the Supreme Kai.  "Do you want another one?  Do ya?!"

            Kibito bowed to the Kai and shook his head fearfully.

            "Okay, you just let me know, 'cuz there's plenty more where that came from!"

            Sarie Mue had begun to back away nervously, a bit weirded out by this particular servant-master interaction.  The show had NEVER shown this side of their relationship.

            "Master…" Kibito began cautiously, pointing to the retreating girl and bracing himself for another blow.

            "Wha…  Oh, yes.  The interloper," the Supreme Kai suddenly remembered.  He tended to lose track of things when punishing Kibito.  "Wait!" he called out.  "There's no need to run!  What's your name?"

            Sarie stopped and turned around slowly, the sun catching her hair as confusion cast over her flawless features.  She really didn't want to get involved with either of these DBZ men, but she couldn't really find a way out of this place.  And the Great Will seemed to be in a bad enough mood already.

            "I'm…" she began hesitantly, "Sarie Mue, rabid fan…"  She stopped suddenly, not quite sure where that tag to her name had come from.  Perhaps it was fulfilling a running gag that she wasn't aware of…

            "Oh," Kaioshin said.  "Okay… um… Sarymurabidfan," he got out with some difficulty.  "I am…"

            Suddenly, the few clouds parted, and a celestial light from above seemed to bathe him in an unearthly radiance.  He held his arms open, his expression angelic yet commanding in its infinite wisdom, and, in a powerful yet benevolent voice, he finally uttered the godly name he had carried for untold eons…

            "Shin."

            As the aura surrounding him abruptly dissipated, the three stood blinking in the wake of the anticlimactic introduction.

            This Kibito couldn't stand.  "He is Kaioshin, the Supreme Kai, master of the entire universe, the last remaining and strongest remnant of the union of the Supreme Kai's – one-time and only survivor of the battle with the horrible monster Buu and his master Bibidi, along with all of the forces of darkness."  Kibito paused, taking a deep breath.  "You should take off your shoes and bow before his glory!  Lord of all the Kai's, protector of the helpless, guardian of…" Kibito faltered, unable to think of accolades worthy of his master quickly enough.  "…little puppies and flowers and…"

            "Kibito," Kaioshin interrupted.  

            "Y…yes, Supreme Kai?" Kibito responded fearfully.

            "Come closer."  

            "Of course, Supreme Kai!" Kibito ran and knelt before him.  

            "A little closer."  

            "As you wish, Kaioshin," Kibito leaned in toward him.  

            The pristine calm of the planet was shattered by the echo of the Supreme Kai's open hand against Kibito's large pink cheek.  

            "Who's your daddy, Kibito?" asked the Supreme Kai in his implacably calm voice.

            "You are, Supreme Kai."  

            "That's right.  And when Daddy says be quiet, what do we do?"  

            "We are quiet, Supreme Kai."  

            "Good.  I just wanted to make sure we were clear on that little detail.  Now go sit on that rock until I call you." 

            Kibito walked dejectedly over to the rock Shin had gestured to, muttering under his breath. 

            "Kibito?  Did you say something?" Kaioshin asked, his cool tone belying the threat implied.  

            "No Supreme Kai!" Kibito answered quickly, sitting down on the rock.  "Nothing!"  

            "That's what I thought," the Kai said, turning his attention back to Sarie Mue.  "As I was saying," he began, casting a meaningful glance at Kibito, "you can call me Shin."  He looked back to Kibito, almost as if challenging him to say anything to the contrary.  "Just Shin," he repeated for emphasis.  

            Sarie Mue was utterly confused and more than a little scared, but still somehow found herself somewhat attracted to this short, purple fellow with his mohawk.  "Okay…Shin," she said.  

            Behind the Supreme Kai, Kibito was biting his lips, trying to keep from saying anything.  He let out a moan of pain.

            The Supreme Kai seemed not to notice and smiled indulgingly.  "There," he said.  "That wasn't so hard was it?  Now, how about we enjoy a nice meal while we figure out just what to do with you?"  

            He clapped his hands together, and there appeared before them a picnic blanket and a fully prepared meal.  

            "As you appear to be an Earth-type creature…humans I believe they're called?" he looked over his shoulder at Kibito.  

            "You are correct, Sir."

            "Yes," Shin continued.  "I have prepared what I understand to be an earth-type delicacy.  A meal of roast caribou with raspberry sauce and a side of roast corn all served over a bed of spinach leaves.  I trust this meets your approval, Sarie?"  

            Sarie Mue shuddered in a mixture of horror and disgust, remembering the last time she had eaten such a meal, but, afraid to offend the Supreme ruler of the universe, and risk a fate similar to Kibito's, she put on her best fake smile.  

            "Yum!" she said.      

            "Then let us dine…" he said.

_________________________________________

            Half an hour later, after just barely avoiding vomiting on the sacred realm of the Kai planet, Sarie had nibbled enough of the meal to claim to be finished.  

            "That was really…_urp_…great, Supreme Kai," she said.  

            "SHIN!" he shouted, causing Sarie Mue to jump back in fear.  He quickly regained his composure.  "I mean to say, you may simply call me Shin.  Titles are unnecessary between us."  He gave her a meaningful look.  

            "I believe I have finished my meal as well," he looked down at his plate, with a few shreds of partially chewed spinach, a corn cob and a several caribou bones.  "Kibito, you may eat now," he said, pushing his plate to the pink giant.  

            "Thank you, Supreme Kai!" Kibito said, biting into the corn cob.  

            "Well, Sarie Mue…Your presence here remains a mystery, but it is one that will have to wait.  Kibito and I have some pressing matters to attend to on Earth.  Apparently, someone is trying to revive a great monster there called Buu.  We are going to find out where the monster is hidden by making sure they get almost all the energy they need to revive him, which they never would otherwise, and then follow them back to the hiding place.  It's a foolproof plan!  We're also going to recruit some insanely powerful loose cannons, who might end up supplying the rest of the energy needed to revive Buu, to help us fight some evil henchman, all the while urging them to hurry in long, drawn-out speeches.  You may accompany us if you wish, to see our masterful, expert plan in action."  

            "Umm…Are you sure that will work?" asked Sarie Mue, who, having seen the Buu saga, knew that it wouldn't.

            "YOU DARE QUESTION THE BRILLIANCE OF THE SUPREME KAI'S PLAN?!" Kibito shouted.  "Have you any idea of the centuries of careful thought that…" 

            Kibito paused, looked in the Supreme Kai's direction.  Pulling his fist back, Kibito punched himself in the face with a thundering _CRACK_, and fell to the ground bleeding.  

            The Supreme Kai nodded slightly in approval before turning his attention back to Sarie Mue.  

            "While usually I do not approve of his ranting, I'm afraid that Kibito was right this time, Sarie.  We know what we are doing.  You needn't worry."

            "O..okay," was all she could reply.  

            "Now, take my hand and I will transport us to Earth.  You can watch some of the battles at the tournament where we will enact our perfect, flawless plan.  Then we can return here for…other entertainment."  His confident smile left little doubt as to the method of entertainment to which he was referring.  But somehow, Sarie Mue didn't find herself minding all that much.  

            Kibito just shook with impotent rage.  

_________________________________________

            As many times as she had watched DBZ tournaments on the show, Sarie Mue found that it was much more exciting seeing them in person.  There was nothing like actually sitting in the stands, watching all of her favorite fighters go at it.  She cheered as young Trunks and Goten fought it out in the junior division tournament.  She found it somewhat more difficult to cheer for Krillen as he fought the pompous giant, but managed to grin and bear it.  

            But seeing Piccolo, one of the greatest warriors on Earth, back down from a fight with Shin had a strange effect on her. 

            _He's short…he's purple…he has a mohawk... she thought.  __So why am I still so attracted to him?  He has that sort of quiet confidence…an inner strength that's just…amazing.  _

            Though at first, she had been sure she could never fall for him, she had begun to see him in a new light.  In fact, she was so busy thinking on this newfound revelation that she failed to notice the disappearance of all the fighters and the ridiculous battle between 18 and Hercule.  (She'd seen it all on the Cartoon Network dubs, anyway!)  She didn't even notice the return of the Supreme Kai, Gohan, Vegeta and Goku to the arena.     

            _Yes! she thought forcefully to herself.  __As soon as this match is over, I'll go find him and tell him that I don't care how he looks.  He is fine on the INSIDE, and that's what matters.  Yes!  Hmm?  Who's fighting now?  _

This was to be her last thought for awhile as Vegeta's ki blast rolled over the area where she was sitting like a nuclear shockwave, obliterating hundreds of lives, hers included, in an instant.  

_______________________________________

            Strangely, she did not find herself floating in a black starfield.  She found herself as a yellowish blob waiting in line in front of a gigantic desk.  

            _How strange, she thought.  _Usually, the Great Will pulls me out before this part.  I guess I still have something to do here.  _She grinned to herself, (at least as much as a yellowish blob can grin) _Come on, Al!  It's time to leap._  She shrugged off the impromptu pop-culture reference and awaited her turn in line.  _

            Seemingly days later, she approached the desk.  The booming voice of King Yemma bellowed suspiciously at her. 

            "What are you doing here?  You aren't even in our records!  Did the Great Will have something to do with this?  I've told that crazy chick before not to…"

            Suddenly, she and the rest of the yellow blobs disappeared as the mystical powers of Shenlong inevitably worked their magic, sending the crowd of people crashing back down to earth in the rubble of the once-glorious Budoukai stadium.

            "Hmm…" Sarie Mue mused.  "No wonder Krillen was suicidal.  I don't know how many more times I could take the whole dying and coming back thing…  Anyway, I need to find Shin and tell him how I feel."  

            She spent the next day looking for any sign of Shin with no luck, when the people around her began to spontaneously combust.  She saw a ball of pinkish/purple light head toward her at lightning speed.  She had exactly .073 seconds to remember that Buu was destroying all of humanity in one attack (as per Piccolo's suggestion) and that she was about to get killed again.  

            "Oh," she said.

            Once again, she found herself waiting in line as a yellow blob.  The line was much bigger this time, and King Yemma was losing patience.  Finally, he told all the yellow blobs to shut up and put the VBC, (Vegeta Beating Channel) on the big T.V. so they could watch Buu beat up on Vegeta.  Apparently, the VBC was the prime source of entertainment in the universe for the past few decades.  

            Despite the fact that Vegeta had killed her less than a day before, she found herself pitying him as Kid Buu pummeled him into mush.  

            "Break his arm!  Break his arm!" shouted King Yemma.  Sure enough, a few seconds later, Vegeta's arm was twisted grossly out of shape and hanging at his side.  "What'd I tell ya'?  They ALWAYS break his arm!" King Yemma shouted to Baba.  "Pay up!"  

            The grumbling old witch began flipping through her wallet.  "It's worth it anyway," she said.  "All they ever show nowadays is reruns of 18 breaking his arm.  They remix it into a half-dozen music videos, but it's still the same old fight…"

            Eventually, Vegeta stopped getting beat-up long enough to come up with a plan to save the world, and all the yellow blobs disappeared once again, landing onto the newly formed Earth.  Sarie got to listen first hand as Vegeta swore at them telepathically to raise their hands.  

            "Raise your hands in the air!" he had shouted, his voice filled with anger.  "Raise them like you just don't care!  Now everybody say Heeey!  Now everybody say Hoooo!  Now…" 

            Next Goku had tried.  "I know we're asking a lot, but you have to trust us," he'd said.  "I want you to be sure that you can trust us!  Now, raise your hands if you're sure!"  

            Finally, the world had joined in, raising their hands, and chanting praises to Satan.  Sarie Mue had just wanted it all to be over so she could get back to her short, purple, mohawked Supreme Kai.  

            The day after they'd returned to earth, she finally saw him again.  She 'felt' him teleport just behind her in a flash of light.  

            "Sarie Mue," he whispered into her ear.  "I've come back for you." 

            She turned around, almost faint with relief and happiness at the return of her love, and…screamed.

            Instead of the deep purple skin she'd fallen in love with, he was now a washed-out lavender/pinkish hue.  Instead of the mohawk she'd finally adjusted to, he now had…a mullet.

            "WHY?!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.  "I finally manage to overlook the fact that he had a mohawk, I die twice and come back from the dead to see him, and now you give him a Michael Bolton **mullet?  He looks like a pink Billy Ray Cyrus!  Just end it now…Great Will of the Cosmos, end it now!"**

            In a flash, Sarie Mue disappeared, leaving the fused Supreme Kai looking rather confused.  

            "How did that happen?" he asked no one in particular.  "She just disappeared." 

            "Oh well," he said.  "She was not worthy of the great Supreme Kai anyway…lord of all the known universe, protector of..."

            He was interrupted as he slapped himself swiftly across the face.  

            "WHO'S MY DADDY?!" he shouted angrily to himself.  

            "I am," he replied meekly.  "I am."  

­­­­­­­­­­­­­_______________________________________________

            Floating in an endless starfield, Sarie Mue was glad to finally be dead again.  She had known from the beginning that it just couldn't have worked between her and the Supreme Kai…Shin.  He was just too…weird.  And he was short!  

            How could she be expected to love someone who wasn't taller than her?  She didn't consider herself shallow, but she wasn't without her standards, either!  

            The Great Will of the Cosmos, for her part, had more important things to worry about.  Since the last story, she'd heard rumors of Kibito joining "le resistance."  This whole thing was getting out of hand.  

            "I think I know just the one for Sarie Mue," she said to herself.  "Once I get her taken care of, I can turn my full attention to taking care of the chronically abused minor characters.  I need someone who can keep an eye on Sarie Mue…in fact…maybe three eyes…"

**Chapter 6: Tien**


	6. Tien

**Disclaimer:**  We hereby give notice that we are not the proper owners of Dragonball Z, and do not write this story with intentions of infringing on the copyright thereof.  It is important to respect copyright laws.  I know this one guy, and he didn't respect copyright laws, and he was bitten by a moose!  Really!  The moose just took a big chunk out of his leg.  It got infected…it was really gross.  Moosebites can get pretty nasty, you know…  And then, the guy, he went to the hospital, and…

_We, the mooses of this work, apologize for the previous moose rant in the disclaimer.  The mooses responsible for the disclaimer have been sacked.  We shall now continue with the adventures of Sarie Moose.  _

**We apologize for the pointless "moose" references in the previous apology for the moose rants.  We have sacked those responsible for sacking the moose people, and assure you that there will be no more moose in this entire story.  Except for in this disclaimer, where we shall say the following: "The majestic moose is a noble creature – the most lordly of all living beings."  There.  Now, we have go to fix our hair with some mousse and enjoy a nice dessert of chocolate mousse.  Then I have to kill a mouse.  I think I'll hang him on a noose.  It's hard to write with all those cows outside in the field.  They are all mooing.  That's a lot of "moo's…"  **

We apologize for the general silliness of the entire disclaimer thus far.  We have taken great care to fire anyone involved with the disclaimer up to this point to hire a new disclaimer crew who do not have a fascination with the aforementioned Canadian big game mammals.  We shall now conclude our disclaimer thusly: We do not own DBZ; neither do we own any llamas.  Of course, if we did own llamas, we would have to be careful around them, because llamas tend to spit a lot…  Llama spit is really nasty stuff.  It's full of diseased germs and…

Get on with it!

_Get on with it!_

**Get on with it! **

Get on with it!

**_And all together: Get on with it!!!  _**

**Author's Notes: We hate you all!  You are scum.  Stop reading. **

And now that I've gotten that out of my system (Lies, all.), I can get on with… it.  Uh… OK, I know it's been a LONG time since we've updated.  Months, even.  And I know we said that we'd have more time to write once school started.  The thing is, we were SEVERELY deluded.  Howler is the news editor at our campus paper, and I'm taking upper level literature courses coupled with a creative writing course.  This affords little time to even see each other, much less write fanfiction.  By the time we actually get time to write we're both so tired and brain-fried that we don't even feel like it.  It's horrible!

Well, if any of you are still around, we'd like to thank our reviewers:

Lil Shady:  Well stated and high praise indeed.  There's nothing better than having someone tell you that your story is so well-written that there's nothing to criticize.  But that doesn't get you out of leaving reviews.  We live off of reviews.

DirtyChild: *double-take*  Name change!  Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter.  I'm not too fond of Descartes myself.  And, yes, there are fifty men.  You just have to dig for them.

Naomi Potyer: I truly appreciate your review, Naomi.  If anyone else makes fun of the fact that you are not American and English is not your primary language, let me know and I shall send the Great Will of the Cosmos after them to make their lives a living Hell.  I'm partially serious.  I'd like to see some of these people read and write effectively in another language.  I sure can't!  I respect people who can.  ^_^  I hope to hear from you again.

Omega:  Omega gets ten points!!  Of course, they're only metaphorical points, but if you get 10 more you get a metaphorical cookie!  Yay!  Anyway.  I'm not so sure about Enterprise.  They seem to prostitute the Vulcan chick a little too much.  And about vacation, I thank the Great Will every day that it's over.  I hate summer.  I see what you're saying with the criticism.  Yes, we are probably guilty of rushing the ending of the chapter.  But there's just not much you can do with the Supreme Kai.  I hope you enjoyed this chapter more, though it still leans toward the disturbing.

Despondent Dreamer: (Another name change!)  Uh… *anime sweat-drops*  Thanks!

Kettricken: We are saving Vegeta for later.  He is going to be an EXTREMELY fun chapter.  I won't say any more…  The roast caribou came from one of our experiences, actually.  Howler ordered it at a slight fancy restaurant we went to just before my prom.  Thank goodness I got enough for us to share my food.  That stuff was extremely nasty.  Kettricken gets 10 points too!  Plus a metaphorical piece of fudge for explaining the connection thoroughly.  Kudos!  Sometime I WILL get back to reading your fic.  I just have to find the time.

Dark Wolf:  Wolf!  I'm glad you're back (and front).  And I'm glad you're back to writing.  Can't wait to see what you'll do with this next story.  Everyone!  Read "Recoil" by Dark Wolf AG!  (If he'll make the updates quick enough.  He-he!  Hypocrisy for everyone!)

**Prologue:  **The rather portly, middle-aged, mustached British man looked to the Great Will of the Cosmos for his cue.  She nodded to him, but he failed this as nods from floating starfields with arms aren't all that noticeable.  So, she started up a campy soundtrack of a German-sounding march, knowing that he was much more familiar with that particular convention.  

"Ah yes!  Hello," began the Brit.  "I am John Cleese, famed British comic actor.  I will be your host for this chapter of Sarie Mue.  Many of you remember me from my years in the Monty Python comedy troop, as well as my passable film career with such Oscar-winning films as A Fish Called Wanda on my resume.   Of course," he said, taking on an annoyed tone, "some of you might recognize me as the ghost 'Nearly Headless Nick' from the film adaptations of J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter series.  Then again, that's rather doubtful as for some insane reason, the character was nearly cut out of the story – especially the second film!  In the book, Nick had entire chapters devoted to his Deathday party!  Why in God's name did they hire me, John Cleese, to play the part if all Nick was going to say was, 'Hello Harry!  Hello, Hermione!'  It makes no sense!  No sense at all!  I may not be a Ben Kingsly or a Richard Attenborough, but I am a _reasonably_ well-respected British actor!  At least I've never been caught in Los Angeles snogging with a prostitute in a vehicle parked in a public place like _some_ British actors I could name…  Yes, let's see them cast Hugh Grant in a blockbuster film and give him two puny lines!  Ha!  And furthermore…"

            "That will be quite enough of that!" The Great Will broke in, unconsciously affecting a British accent.  "I didn't bring you here to rant on about how terribly you were treated by the Harry Potter movie people…  Besides, the movies weren't that great anyway.  They left out all the _real humor to make more time for Quidditch special-effect sequences and Neville Longbottom's pratfalls."  The Great Will paused for a moment, distracted by thoughts of Neville and the rest of the chronically-abused minor characters who had been driving her crazy lately.  _

            John Cleese just let out a disgusted sigh.  "All I'm saying is they need to treat me with more respect – even if Nick is a minor character.  It's like that woman was saying to me earlier…when a minor character is chronically abused it sets a bad precedent that…"

            "What?!" the Great Will screamed.  "She approached you?  When?  What did she offer you?  How dare that frying pan-wielding barracuda try to steal _another_ of my hosts?"  

            John looked surprised.  "Oh, I didn't know you were acquainted with her.  She does seem to be a rather intense person, didn't she?  But I see no need to call her names…"

            "I don't want to argue with you!" The Great Will shouted.

            "Yes, you do," he replied.

            "What?" The Great Will asked, rather perplexed.  

            "You just said you want to argue with me," John pointed out, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

            "No, I didn't," she protested.

            "Yes, you did," he answered.

            "No I didn't."

            "Yes, you did." 

            "No, I didn't."

            "Yes, you did."

            "I didn't."

            "You did." 

            "I didn't."

            "You did."

            "Didn't!"

            "Did!"

            "Didn't!"

            "Did!"

            "Wait a second!" the Great Will screamed.  "You just drew me into one of your silly, classic Monty Python sketches, didn't you?"

            "No, I didn't," he replied.

            "Yes, you did!" she screamed.

            "No, I di…"

            With a flash of light, John Cleese disintegrated into a pile of ash.  "You should never argue with the Great Will of the Cosmos," she said.  

            "I wasn't arguing," John Cleese answered, wiping a speck of ash from his shirt.

            "Yes, you were!" she insisted.

            "No, I never did."  

            "Yes, you…" the Great Will paused, looking at his glowing form suspiciously.  "How did you come back?  I didn't plan that."  

            "Well, you see, it's very hard to kill a Monty Python member.  We keep reappearing in reruns, and we keep finding new, younger audiences.  I doubt very much there is a college student in the English-speaking world who hasn't seen _The Quest for the Holy Grail_ at least once if not a half-dozen times.  We have excellent staying power."

            "I see…" the Great Will said, obviously impressed.  "Well regardless, it's time to get to the story now."

            "I just said that," he replied irritably.  

            "No, you di…" she stopped.  "You are so good at that…"

            "Yes, yes…I know," he replied smugly.  

**Chapter 6: Tien**

            Sarie Mue, rabid fangirl on the rampage, found herself in the middle of a vast desert.   

(Though, how would she know where the middle of the desert was, anyway?  Everyone always says they're in the middle of the desert, or the middle of nowhere, but if there are no distinguishing features, how can you tell where the middle is?  Does everyone carry around a GPS system now, or something?  Just in case they end up in a desert and need to know if they are in the middle?  Hmm… let's try again, shall we?)

Sarie Mue, rabid fangirl on the rampage, found herself in a desert, with no specific knowledge as to whether she was in the middle or near the outer-edge of said desert.  She did, however, note that she was near a low mountain system.  Not knowing where else to go, she headed toward the mountains, hoping to find a cave or at least some shade from the relentlessly unrelenting desert sun.  

(That's the thing about those desert suns – they just don't relent.  I don't know why, but that's what it says in all the Western novels.  Anyway…)    

She wondered what was in store for her, now, hoping that she had not upset the Great Will of the Cosmos by rejecting the Supreme Kai.  The Great Will had seemed distracted lately, but she wouldn't bring Sarie Mue to the middle of a desert to just die… would she?

            The wind picked up dust, forcing Sarie to pull the hood of her dark-colored, lightweight desert cloak across her eyes.  The cloak blocked her vision, but there was very little to see anyway.  She was in a desert, remember?  She trudged onward, sparing only the occasional glance to keep her path straight toward the mountains.  That's probably why she tripped.

Sitting up after a tumble, she looked to see what she had tripped over.  It appeared to be a plain, oaken chest with a label on it, which read: "Unlikely Plot Device: Courtesy of Overworked, Creatively-Drained Writers – See inside to keep up running gag."

Shrugging in confusion, she opened the chest to find a full-length mirror.  Covering her eyes from the blinding sun reflecting from the mirror, she turned it around so she could get a look at herself.  

_Wow…_she thought,_ this is much better than the overly-convenient pools of water and store windows I've been using for this obligatory scene._

She was wearing, as she had noted, a loose-fitting, lightweight, dark-colored desert garb which covered her entire body.  The fabric allowed her skin to breathe while reflecting the deadly sun's rays from her body. 

_Wow_, she thought.  _This is a cool outfit.  It's amazing, as an American teenage girl, I've always been under the impression that the best way to keep cool during the summer was to go around wearing a spaghetti-strap halter top and daisy duke-length shorts.  I wonder why I always thought that?_

­­­­­­­­­-------

Miles and worlds away, the fashion world's top executives, all lecherous, middle-aged men, were at an inter-company board meeting, discussing the prospect of the new "transparent" look for the new summer line.  

            "We'll call it the 'natural' look," said Arty, a 48 year-old balding man, tipping his cigar into the ashtray on the table.  "We'll get those idiots at Cosmo to run articles about how 'Opaque is too fake – Go natural!'"

            "Yes!" Mort, 53, agreed, idly scratching at his beer-gut under his new $500 silk suit.  "We can buy in bulk and make the clothes from Saran-wrap.  Then we can do a 750% mark-up.  It's genius!" 

            Walter, adjusting his toupee, looked up from the latest issue of _Maxim magazine.  "Just think.  If we can trick them into wearing the stuff as swimwear…"_

            The men all grinned the smiles of pathetic, yet filthy-rich dirty old men, as they each indulged in fantasies of flesh less than half their age covered only by the latest Gladwrap Bikini… 

------

            Sarie Mue, meanwhile, shrugged off thoughts of her illogical wardrobe choices to momentarily take off her hood to see her new face in the convenient mirror.  She was olive-skinned with stunning green eyes and gorgeous, pouting lips.  Her wavy black hair, tinted red as if from the sun, blew gently in the desert breeze.  

            "Wow," Sarie Mue said.  "This is different…but I think I like it."  

            She put her hood back up to protect herself from the cruel, relentless, blinding, deadly, evil, malignant, gut-wrenching, agonizing, infamous and all-around yucky desert sun.  Looking up from the mirror, she saw she was almost at the first of the mountain chain.  As it loomed ever closer into view, she saw that it did, indeed, house a cave system that looked like it would provide adequate shelter from the #%$* mother @&^ son of a ^+#)! desert sun in the =&^(* sky above.  

            Suddenly, a voice rang out across, echoing in the small valley formed by the mountains against the desert plain.  "Who dares intrude upon this place of sanctuary?" 

            Sarie Mue rolled her eyes.  "Not again!" she muttered.  

            "You have violated the grounds of the deadly assassin and thief Dark Cloud, ruler of the desert.  Leave now, while you still can, interloper!"  

            Having cowered in fear too much, too often, Sarie decided to confront the scary voice head on.  In a rare moment of coolness, she called out, "I hate being called 'interloper,' and you stole your name from that tiger, dragon movie or whatever.  So go ahead and kill me, or give me some water!  Frankly, I'm too tired to care which, right now."  

            A cloaked figure emerged from the shadows of one of the cave openings, followed by another very short figure a few steps behind, its oversized cloak leaving a serpent-like trail in the sand.  "I am the dread pirate Roberts!" the cloaked figure said ominously.  "I leave no survivors!  I am here for your sssooooouuuuuuul." 

            Sarie Mue sighed loudly, crossing her arms over her ample, heaving bosom.  "I've seen _The Princess Bride like, a billion times," she said.  "I'm not scared of you, so you might as well stop."  _

            The larger figure stopped suddenly, pulling the hood back to reveal the stern features of Tien.  "Wow," he said.  "You really don't scare easily, do you?"  

            The smaller figure, not having noticed him stop, lurched forward, bumping hard against the backs of Tien's knees.  "Ow!" squeaked Chaotzu, falling down and rubbing his head as the cloak fell off of him.  

            Sarie Mue laughed at the sight of what looked like an animated kewpie doll poking out its bottom lip in a pout.  

            "Tiennnn…." Chaotzu whined.  "She laughing at me."  

            Tien turned his stern three-eyed gaze to Sarie Mue.  "I don't like for people to laugh at my friend…" he cut his eyes to Chaotzu sitting in the bundled up cloak, a small knot forming on his eerily white head.  "No matter how silly he looks," he snickered.  

            Chaotzu crossed his arms in a huff.  "Tiennnnn!"

            "Well, I told you not to follow me out here, Chaotzu.  You're just not scary, enough."  

            "At least I don't go off quoting stupid movies.  What the ^&$% kind of stupid $^#! was that, anyway?"  

            Sarie Mue's jaw dropped at the expletives pouring from the puppet's mouth.  She knew Funimation tried to clean up DBZ, but she had no idea…

            "Anyway," the puppet continued, "you tell the ^$^@ over there to keep her !%#^ laughing to herself or I'll &$^+ blast her, I swear I will." 

            "Now Chaotzu," said Tien consolingly, "Did you forget to take your medication again this morning?  You've been moody all day.  Go take it, now."      

            "Whatever," the puppet said, shuffling off into the cave.  

            "Sorry about that," Tien said to Sarie Mue.  "He's really sensitive sometimes, and the doctor said he's bipolar or something.  If he doesn't take his medicine he can get really mean, sometimes."  

            "That's so sad," said Sarie Mue.  "He looks so nice."  

            "Yeah," agreed Tien.  "He is most of the time, but when he gets one of those spells he'll go into these rants – they last for hours sometimes.  He gets so mad and stomps his little feet and swears a blue streak.  It's kind of scary…but..." Tien cracked a smile.  "So FUNNY!" Tien snickered.  "I try not to laugh at him, but he looks so cute when he's mad.  He's like one of those little barking Pekinese dogs or something, with his squeaky little voice…" Tien kept laughing for a minute before he finally managed to stop. 

            Sarie Mue laughed with him.  Tien, despite the weird third eye thing and his fierce, steely raptor gaze, once he got to talking, he had an easy manner about him that she immediately liked…a lot.    

            He looked at her…with his three eyes.  "I was so busy trying to scare you away that I forgot to ask your name.  I'm Tenshinhan." 

            "Bless you," she said quickly.

            He rolled his eyes…all three of them.  "That's what everyone says.  Just call me..." he sighed, "Tien."  

            "Okay," she said.  "I'm Sarie Mue." 

            "And she makes fun of _my_ name," he muttered.  

            "What was that?" she asked innocently.

            "Nothing," he said, not wanting to offend this attractive creature who had wandered in from the desert.  "Why don't you come into the cave and have some water?  You must be parched."  

            "Okay," Sarie chirped, her mood brightening.  Maybe this really would be the one.

            Entering Tien's desert hideout, she took quick stock of her surroundings.  She immediately noticed something very odd about Tien's decorating.  There were two of everything – one large, one small.  A large chair sat next to a tiny stool.  A 40 inch plasma screen TV was mounted above a tiny 12 inch black and white set.  A large couch sat next to a tiny Ottoman, who immediately jumped up off of the miniature couch beside the larger one and ran off into the desert.  

            "Wow," said Sarie, "This is certainly a… unique… style of decorating.  Is it Fungus Shoe?" 

            "That's Feng Shui," Tien supplied.  "And no, not really.  But Chaotzu absolutely demands he have his own set of things his size.  He is really sensitive about his height.  Having to reach for things… upsets him.  A lot."

            "Can't he fly?" Sarie asked.

            "SSHHHHH!" Tien shushed her quickly.  "It doesn't matter how silly his hang-ups are, if you point them out, he's likely to go nuts.  You've upset him enough already." 

            "Umm…okay…" Sarie mumbled uncertainly. 

            At just that moment, a tiny door (next to a much larger one) opened, and Chaotzu marched proudly into the room.  Instead of his usual dollish garb, he wore a blue uniform with a red stripe across the chest and a boat-shaped hat.  He kept one of his delicate white hands inside the fold of the jacket.  In the other, he held a traditional officer's saber. 

            Sarie Mue opened her mouth to laugh at the ridiculous sight standing in the doorway, but Tien's hand flew out to cover it.  

            "Greetings, emperor," Tien said, giving Sarie a pointed look. "You grace us with your presence," he said slowly, emphasizing his meaning to Sarie.

            The dollish figure cut his gaze to Sarie as Tien removed his hand from her mouth.  After she said nothing, the very little "emperor" cleared his throat loudly. 

            "Oh!" Sarie exclaimed. "Right.  Umm…  Hi, emperor?" she said uncertainly.

            Chaotzu sniffed, not pleased with her greeting, but satisfied.  "I demand an explanation for the presence of this interloper!" Chaotzu squeaked importantly. 

            Sarie Mue stomped her foot. "I am not an INTERLOPER!!!" she screamed. 

            "You dare to challenge the will of Emperor Chaotzu?!!" the miniature megalomaniac demanded.  "I will send you to the guillotine for such insolence in my court!" 

            "Chaotzu," Tien said consolingly. "She is a stranger here and not aware of our customs.  Mercy is the mark of a great leader.  Why don't you go to your throne room and take your royal nap.  I will deal with her." 

            The miniscule monarch considered for a moment before nodding his assent.  "Very well chancellor.  You may take care of this detail for me."  He sneered at Sarie Mue again.  "I fear though that I am becoming too merciful.  I will lose the respect of my people!" he cried with a sweeping gesture.  

            Sarie looked at the empty room and back to Tien, who was barely suppressing a smirk.  "Your majesty will always be first in his people's *snicker* hearts," he assured the petite potentate.  

            Chaotzu let out a yawn, stretching his tiny arms above his head, prompting an "Awwwww…" from Sarie.  Chaotzu looked at her sharply, as she put her arms behind her back and began to whistle tunelessly.  "Right then – do as you will with the prisoner and call a review of my troops for in the morning." 

            Tien grabbed a notebook from the table next to him and began drawing random circles.  "So it is written, so let it be done," Tien said solemnly, as Chaotzu headed back through the tiny door.

            Tien finally let out a long, slow sigh.  "You've really upset him.  He hasn't been that bad off in weeks," he said, shaking his head.

            "Wow," she replied.  "That little door looks just like our doggy door back home." 

            "QUIET!" Tien urged, again putting his hand over her mouth.  "He'll really lose it if he hears you talking that way."  Tien leaned in closer to Sarie, whispering into her ear, "He _listens_ sometimes.  He's paranoid that people are talking about him behind his back, and I'm usually the only one here!"

            Tiens three eyes darted about the room, looking for signs that Chaotzu had heard Sarie's unflattering comment.  "You don't know how it is, Sarie.  He used to be so well-adjusted.  But he got this weird disease…  You see, Chaotzus are known for how happy and cheerful they are.  But every now and then, one of them gets some sort of alien infection that keeps them from controlling their emotions.  And under the surface, Chaotzus have a lot of bad feelings."

            "Ohhh," Sarie said sadly.  "It's just like Sarek."

            "What?" asked Tien, confused. 

            "I don't know," Sarie scratched her head, confused.  _Maybe the authors are using me to make obscure references to another show they are obsessed with, _she thought.

            "Never mind," Sarie said, shrugging it off.  "So how about that @$*! kicking son of a ^!&* sun out there?"

            "Yeah," Tien agreed, impressed with her swearing.  "It's really a *!$% licking !^&$ spanking  $&@$  @$&$ing mother !$^$%@ of a &!$! up there, huh?"  

            "Yep," she replied.  "And relentless, too!"

            They laughed together, both making crude gestures out the window at the sun. 

            "But I really am sorry you have such a tough time with Chaotzu," Sarie said, becoming serious again.  "I wish there was something I could do to help."

            "Thanks," Tien nodded.  "That means a lot to me… but let's not talk about that now.  I hope you're not bored.  It gets pretty dull hanging out in a cave all the time.  I'm just used to it.  Do you want to play a board game?"

            Her hand whipped across his face, almost scratching his third eye.  "I barely know you!  How dare you ask me to play MahJong with you?!"

            "I didn't!" he answered in a hurt tone.  He crossed over to a large cabinet next to a smaller one, opening it to pull out a box marked _Clue.  "I just thought you might want to play __Clue, that's all!"_

             Sarie's faced turned a bright red.  "I'm so sorry!  I thought…"  She clenched her hands into fists.  "Those stupid Funimation censors got me confused.  They're almost as bad as the !&&$ using !$^!# inserting lover of !&%& and !*^$ sun out there."

            "It's okay," Tien assured her.  "I'm used to being misunderstood.  Remember, I live with a quick-tempered schizophrenic who's so short he can barely reach to tie his own shoes!" he joked. 

            "I HEARD THAT!" a piercing squeak echoed through the room, the tiny door blowing off its hinges in a diminutive explosion.  "I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT ME!!!"

            "Chaotzu calm down!" Tien begged, holding his hands out innocently.  "I didn't mean anything..."

            "YES YOU DID!  YOU INSULTED ME!" Chaotzu screeched.  "I'LL KILL YOU!  I'LL KILL YOU ALL!" Chaotzu put his hands on his head, yellow energy radiating from him in hot, fierce waves.

            "Sarie!  Get down!" shouted Tien.  As she hit the floor of the cave, he threw himself over her.  

            With a final shout from the enraged doll-like figure, the cave exploded outward, chunks of rock flying in all directions.   

            A few second later, as the smoke cleared, all that was left in the middle of the desert was a pile of rock and the overturned remains of one large chair and one small. 

            Tien stood up, regarding his furious friend.  "Chaotzu, I've put up with a lot from you.  I've played along with your delusions.  I've forgiven you when you got mad at me for no reason.  I've bathed you.  I've clipped your toenails.  I've…" he looked at Sarie, who was making her way to her feet and giving Tien a very confused and perhaps disgusted look.

            "Anyway, I've put up with a lot from you, but now you've gone too far.  You blew up our house!" he yelled, gesturing to the pile of rubble surrounding them.

            "!$% right I did!" the stringless puppet shouted.  "And I'd do it again, too!  I told you to keep that !%#%  girl away from me, but did you?  !@$% no!  You let her in the cave!  And then both of you stood there laughing at me!  Conspired against my !$^^$ rule!"

            "YOU DON'T HAVE A RULE!" Tien screamed.  "You rule nothing!  You go around telling everyone you are an emperor, but I've never even SEEN another Chaotzu!  You just make this stuff up!  Just like you made up your invisible rabbit friend!  You're a make-up wearing midget who can't even control his own bodily functions properly, much less rule an empire!" 

            Sarie Mue just stared at them, her mouth wide open as huge anime sweat drops appeared on her head.

            "That's right!" Tien said to her.  "He wears diapers!  And you don't want to know how hard it is to buy diapers when you live in a desert!"

            With a desperate, humiliated scream, Chaotzu rushed at Tien, glowing with power and pent-up rage.  Tien turned to meet the attack of his one-time best friend, the setting (!#%#) sun giving the sky and sand an eerie red glow.  As the two clashed in heated combat, Sarie could almost hear drums and trumpets and French horns blaring angrily along with the sound of the primal screams as friend struggled against friend. 

            Finally, Dr. McCoy called for a halt as he approached T'Pau…  Whoops.  Sorry.

            After a particularly fierce explosion knocked the two combatants apart, Tien held cradled his left arm as if it had been broken.  Chaotzu was covered with dark bruises and dripping blood.  "I…can't beat you," Chaotzu gasped, his voice hoarse.  He turned a dark gaze on his opponent/friend.  

            "But I can still hurt you." 

            He held his arm toward Sarie, a pinpoint of yellow energy forming on the end of his index finger.  "She's the cause of all this anyway."  His voice took on a desperate, pleading tone.  "And if I kill her, maybe we'll be friends again…"

            "No!" shouted Tien.  "That won't solve anything!  Leave her out of this!"

            "I…have to," Chaotzu whispered, almost as if he was afraid of himself.  "I have to make everything better…  You'll see." Tears started to fall from his doll-like cheek.  "Everything will be…better." The beam of energy shot toward the frozen body of Sarie Mue, who stood paralyzed with fear.

            "NOOOOOOO!!!" screamed Tien, leaping desperately between the deadly beam and the innocent girl.  He thrust his hands out instinctively, forming a ki barrier to try to catch or somehow deflect the dodonpa beam before it could pierce her chest.  The beam deflected off of Tien's hand… and head straight back to its source.

            In the instant it took for the tiny warrior to realize his fate, he only had time to utter one final word…  

            "Tien?..."

            And then he was gone, the beam separating his head from his body.  (Of course, because those Funimation jerks run the cameras, the camera followed his pointy boat-shaped hat as it artistically fell to the ground in slow motion instead of showing the ultra-cool beheading scene.  But if you really want to see it, then go to the Japanese version of this story…  Oh wait.  There's not one!  Oh well…  We've ruined the dramatic moment enough.)

            "CHAOTZUUUUU!" Tien desperately cried, falling to his knees.  Sobbing, he crawled over to the mangled pieces of his best friend.  It looked, for all the world, as though a careless child had broken her china doll and left the pieces lying on the ground.  A desert bird cried out, "Poo-tee-weet?"  So it goes.  

            (We'll give a metaphorical cookie to anyone who can pick out that reference!)

            Sarie walked over to him on shaky legs, tentatively putting a trembling hand on his shoulder as he shook with quiet rage and regret.  "Tien, I…"

            "Shut up," he growled. 

            "But…"

            "This is your fault.  I don't want to see you, and I don't want to talk to you.  Just go," he said with a deadly calm. 

            "I… okay." She started to back away.  "It was what you had to do, though…  I hope that someday you'll be able to forgive yourself… and find some sort of peace."

            "I shall do neither," he said gravely as he rose to his feet, his back still to her.  "I have killed my emperor, and my friend."

            She nodded and turned to begin her walk through the desert.  When she had walked nearly a mile from the shattered remains of Tien's cave and those of his life, she heard a deafening explosion.  Turning, she saw a fountain of yellow light erupting from the ground, its brightness rivaling that of the !$^*( dog !$^$^$ing !$&! sun.  

            She turned quickly away, holding her face in her hands.  As she sobbed, she whispered to the desert wind, "If not in life, I hope you've made your peace now, Tien."  

            Three days later, the !$^!# loving mother !#^^ goat !&!$^$ing spawn of !&&$^%$ and $^!#% sun got its revenge as Sarie Mue died of exposure in the endless desert.

            Several vultures had a fine meal that day.

            So it goes.

*****

            The Great Will of the Cosmos watched the scene through her "Omniscient-Point-of-View-o-Scope," a look of quiet shock written across her… uh… countenance.  She hugged a whimpering Pedro for comfort.  On one screen the charred remains of two friends still smoked weakly.  On the other screen Sarie was artistically sprawled on the desert floor with vultures pecking (artistically) at her bones.

            "&*&%&^," the Great Will said quietly.  "That is some depressing @%^%$.  I was like Blue Gender, Titanic, and the death of Mufasa all rolled into one."

            She reviewed the latest misadventures of Sarie Mue, which had gradually gotten covered over with strategies and plans to combat Le Resistance.  "Perhaps… I haven't paid enough attention to poor Sarie.  Even a shallow petty girl like her doesn't deserve all this.  I mean, she's died four or five times in just the last few chapters.  This is really getting out of hand."  The Great Will pulled out a small purple notebook, regarding the fifty names written on the first page, five already crossed out.  With a disappointed sigh, the Great Will put a line through Tien's name.  She considered briefly whether or not she should bring the two back to life, but disregarded the notion quickly.  Both Tien and Chaotzu were members of Le Resistance.

            "I need someone who'll be nice to her, and won't kill her.  She has a strange tendency of dying.  Someone who's mild-mannered, not impulsive, not a villain, not a fighter… hmm…"  Her gaze stopped at name 16 on her list.  She debated for a moment, but the decision was already made in her subconscious.  (At least, that's what my Psych professor told me.)  "He WAS pretty lonely during the Frieza Saga.  Plus, Earth isn't getting attacked at that point… why not?" she ended with a satisfied nod.

**Chapter 7: Mr. Popo**


	7. Mr Popo

**Disclaimer:  **

We, the authors of this work, hereby disclaim…  Why do we say disclaim?  What is disclaiming anyway?  Nobody says disclaim!  

I mean, think about it:  "Is that jelly doughnut yours?"  "No!  I disclaim that doughnut.  You can have it."  Nobody talks that way.

Therefore, in protest of the word "disclaim" and all such legal jargon, we shall simply state the following:  

We don't own Dragonball Z.  And if you thought we did, then you are probably too dumb to read the rest of this stuff anyway.  So there!  Ha!  Who needs silly legal jargon?

With the above statement, we, the party of the first part, cannot be held liable for copyright infringement or misappropriation of a trademarked name!  And by its very nature, this work, being one of satire, cannot be construed as libelous.  The Supreme Court said so in _Hustler v. Falwell_.  So we're covered from all ends, and we did it **without** using silly legal jargon.

**Author's Notes:**

I'm telling you, this was a cursed chapter.  For one thing, it was written among Howler's graduation, moving both of us, Christmas holidays, and my various sicknesses, including bronchitis, the flu, and pneumonia.  Thankfully, I am all better.  Then, after we had gotten the entire thing written, and I was editing, my Word decided to meltdown and half of it was gone.  So I stayed up into the dark hours of the night, still pretty sick, desperately trying to salvage what we had just written from my memory.  As I said, this is a cursed chapter.  Hopefully none of you suffer disease, death, or dismemberment while reading.

I want to thank all the kind reviewers who have been waiting oh so patiently for this installment:

Omega:  Scary enough for ya?

Lil Shady:  I've always love Monty Python, and I'm afraid we may borrow from Monty Python overly much in this fic.

DirtyChild:  Thanks!  I guess we can blow up more people.  Although, I'm not sure if John Cleese would enjoy being referred to as a historical figure.

Dark Wolf:  Gardening!  But now that I think of it, exactly how much gardening does Popo do on the show.  His big scene in Dragonball is beating around little Goku.  Oh well.  And I'll get around to Morning Rain sometime… once I actually finish a chapter of The Soul!  See above for excuses.

Taes:  Glad you're perusing my nominally successful attempt at comedy… or parody.  You know, half the people who read this aren't very good at pop culture references.  I guess that shows that the fic is more than just those references.  Sometimes I feel that we pile them on.  And, of course, this chapter is no exception.

A few additional notes.  Seeing as Howler and I will be living farther apart than we're used to, we've decided that, for sanity's sake, to pare down the number of our chapters to between 20 and 30.  That will just get rid of some of the extremely minor characters.  When we haven't even passed 10, more than 40 chapters to go seemed like an eternity.  It's not like I want this fic to go on for more than a year… like some fic I know…

Also, the bird pop culture reference for which we were going to reward a metaphorical cookie was, in fact, a literary reference.  It referred to Slaughter-house Five by Kurt Vonnegut, a book I had to read for a class recently.  The bird "poo-tee-weet" and the phrase "so it goes" pop up whenever death is mentioned in that book.  Let no one say my classes are worth nothing.

And now… on with the show.

**Prologue:  **

"Yes it is!"

"No it isn't!" 

"Yes, it is!"

"NO, IT ISN'T!"

The Great Will of the Cosmos was exhausted.  John Cleese, newly aligned with _The Resistance_, had kept her up for days with his unceasing "argument clinic" routine.  She had tried zapping him with lightning, boiling him in acid, dropping a nuclear bomb on him, and even hitting him with frilly pillows.  Nothing had worked yet.  She was running out of ideas.  

"That's IT!" she bellowed.  "I will stop you if it's the last thing I do!  And I think I know how!"

Raising her hands to the sky, she conjured up the only thing she could think of that might stop a Monty Python member…  A giant foot crashed down upon the surprised John Cleese, hitting the ground with a "pffthththtt."  She waited nervously, waiting for his nasally voice to cut in with another outdated sketch.  Finally, it seemed like he was gone… for now.

"With all of this mess, I haven't even been able to come up with a decent narrator for Sarie Mue's next adventure."  She sighed.  "I guess I'll have to go to the 'B' list for this one… or maybe even the 'C' list."  

With a snap of her fingers, David Boreanaz, better known as TV's "Angel," a spin-off of the even better known "Buffy: The Vampire Slayer," popped up looking very confused.  

"Is this the Dido video shoot?" he asked.  Glancing toward the Great Will, he jumped in surprise.  "Umm…  Someone left this weird starfield with arms prop out on the set," he called out, looking for a stagehand to move it out of the way.

"I am not a prop!" the Great Will said.  "I am the Great Will of the Macrocosm, although _some people_ who do shoddy research while writing fanfics call me the Great Will of the Cosmos…  Anyway, my point is that I am a being almost all-powerful and far beyond your comprehension, which in your case isn't saying much."  

David just looked at her, his prominent brow furrowed in confusion.  "Okay… so… um… did you want an autograph or something?"  He pulled a pad and pen from pocket, giving a nervous, goofy grin.  

"No.  I do not want an autograph," she said, rolling her eyes… er… rotating some of her stars?  "What I want is for you to read the cue cards in front of you quickly and clearly so I can begin the next exciting chapter of Sarie Mue, rabid fangirl on the rampage."

"Rabid fan?" he said nervously, shifting his eyes around.  "I get a lot of those.  I try to avoid them.  They're scary.  And you should see the ones that come after James Marsters!  I thought I had it bad…"

"Will you just shut up and read the cue cards?!!" the Great Will screamed.

"Uh… yeah… so here it goes."  He took a breath, focusing his eyes on the cue cards hovering in front of him.  "Did you want me to do an accent?" he asked, looking back to the starfield.  "I do a really great Irish accent.  Tony Head told me once that he had never heard anything like it!"  

"Hmmm… Giles.  I miss him," The Great Will said dreamily.  "But I've heard your 'Irish accent,' and if I had to hear one syllable of your non-brogue after these last few days of John Cleese, I just might eviscerate you, so if you will please give me one non-accented reading of the cue card hovering in front of your big, pale face with its protruding, caveman forehead then that will suffice!"  

"I was just asking.  Sorry," he apologized.  Looking at the cue card again, he took a deep breath, popped his neck to both sides quickly, closed his eyes, shook out his hands and finally began:

"Welcome ag…again to Sarie Mue," he said flatly, his eyes moving left to right as they read the cue card.  "We are pleased to present chapter seven – Mr…"  He looked at the starfield.  "Does that say poo-poo?"  

"POPO!" she said in a harsh whisper.  "It's Popo, and stop looking like you're in a third grade school play.  Can't you read a cue card properly?"

"Mr. Popo," he continued, pausing obviously as he waited for the next cue card to appear.  "We hope that you enjoy this chapter.  Cut."  He gestured stiffly to a non-existent cameraman and looked to The Great Will for approval.  He looked in time to see the fireball, but not in time to avoid it.  

"I swear," she said, hovering over the smoldering pile of ash, dusting off her hands.  "I don't see how he's made it this long as an actor.  Then again, the only part he plays is a good-looking, emotionally-distant dead guy."  She looked down.  "And he does play dead quite convincingly – when properly motivated.  Let's just get this over with."

With a tired sigh, she waved her hand and…

**Chapter 7: Mr. Popo**

Sarie Mue's startling hazel eyes blinked in surprise as the world snapped into place around her.  Strangely, it seemed to be taking longer than usual to come into focus.  She briefly glimpsed a white tile path leading to a quaint chapel-like structure, but it all moved quickly up and out of her view.  Suddenly, she could see nothing but blue as the wind blew her green hair above her head. 

"That's strange," Sarie Mue said. "Why is everything blue, and why is the wind blowing up?"  She looked down to find the answer, in the form of the ground, moving closer and closer to her…

* * * * * *

Upa and his father, Bora, stood side by side looking at the unusual cloud formations under Kami's Lookout. "Father," said Upa, "I believe the snake-shaped cloud has been following my path for days now. What sort of ill omen could this be for our people?"

"I do not know, son, but we had best consult the council of elders.  Or perhaps the wise Birdman will…  Wait, what's that?" he asked as a vaguely girl-shaped mass spiraled down toward them at a high velocity. 

Upa leaped forward, tackling his father, pushing him out of the way just before…

SPLAT!!!

The vaguely girl-shaped mass had made an impressive vaguely girl-shaped crater. Upa stood up. "Are you alright, Father?"

"Yes, Upa. You are as fast as ever." 

Upa walked over to the crater and looked into it. 

"Ew…" he said.

* * * * * * 

"Two *@$^ feet to the left," muttered the Great Will of the Macrocosm. She sighed. "Let's try again."

* * * * * *

Sarie Mue's startling hazel eyes blinked in surprise as the world snapped into place around her… again.  This time, she found herself standing firmly on the white tile path, as opposed to just off of it. Looking ahead, she saw the path lead between lovely gardens before reaching the chapel-like building she had seen before.

"How lovely," she mused. "This must be…  Oh!  Kami's Lookout!  This is where Piccolo lives.  But I wonder who the Great Will is trying to fix me…"  Sarie Mue stopped, not daring to hope.  "Is she going to set me up with Piccolo?!  I mean… sure, he's odd looking at first, but he's so big and so strong and his eyes are so deep and he's so tall and I've read sooooo many great fanfics about Piccolo falling in love, and I just know that this one will be the one that works out and--"

"Can I help you?" a pleasant, slightly accented voice cut into her tirade.

Spinning around quickly, she couldn't stop herself from shouting out, "Pickle…Oh?" she stopped suddenly.  The very white eyes of Mr. Popo, all the whiter against his ebony skin, stared at her in surprise. "You're not Piccolo," she said bluntly.

"I should hope not!" Popo responded somewhat sharply, adjusting his turban and setting down his watering pail. "Piccolo is dead, and because of him so is my master, so I do not want to talk about the demon Piccolo.  At the moment, I think I need to ask exactly who you are, how did you get here, and what do you want?"

"I'm… um… Sarie Mue," she stuttered simply, not knowing what else to say.  "I got here because the Gr… er… someone teleported me here, and I want a big hunk of Dragonball Z manmeat, but it looks like she keeps sticking me with weirdos."  She folded her arms and kicked at the pristine white tile in a huff, leaving behind a tiny black scuff mark from the bottom of her shoe. 

He stood, still staring, his arms folded behind his back. "I'm not certain that I understood all of that, but I have a feeling you may have just insulted Mr. Popo.  And you've left a scuff mark on the tile. Tsk tsk tsk," he shook his head.

"Mr. Popo…  Oh yeah!  That's who you are, isn't it?" she exclaimed. "Then why are you referring to yourself in the third person.  Are you, like, a rock star or a king or something?"  

Mr. Popo, not really listening to her, had pulled out a cloth and proceeded to kneel down next to her – very next to her, in fact – to remove the scuff mark.

"Hey!  What are you doing down there?!" she shouted, backing away quickly. "You really don't have a clear concept of other people's personal space bubbles do you?" 

"Actually, Mr. Popo is an expert on the bubbles that surround people," he said.  "I've taught the best to sense them. And yours is particularly odd.  It's almost as if your ki is not from this dimension," he commented absently, putting the final polish on the again perfect white tile.

She looked closer at Mr. Popo.  "You can tell all that just by looking at me?  You're good." 

He laughed. "I didn't have to look at you.  Mr. Popo doesn't just see with his eyes.  You humans really have to learn to open your minds to what's around you.  You must learn that seeing is not necessarily believing."  He looked into the distance, seeming to automatically enter lecture mode. 

"Ki is what binds us together.  It is within each of us – within all living things.  When you learn to wield the power of ki, another world will be opened up to you.  In a way, it controls me, but I also control it.  Ki will teach you that we are all part of the great circle of life.  That each life, no matter how seemingly small or insignificant, effects every other life.  We should never take more than we give.  Even the smallest person can change the fate of the world.  Ki is as much a force as even the elements themselves – wind, fire, earth, water, heart – through these powers combined in ki, the world remains in balance.  Yet, a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a hurricane halfway across the world.  A zeni saved is a zeni earned.  The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.  Wax on – wax off.  The best of intentions can lead to the worst of consequences.  The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few – or the one.  Don't dream it – be it.  Never mix, never worry.  The truth is out there.  Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man rather boring.  With great power comes great responsibility.  A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.  Knowing is half the battle.  This is your brain on drugs.  A robot will not harm a human.  You may find that having is not so pleasing a thing as wanting – it's not logical, but it is often true.  All work and no play makes Mr. Popo a dull boy.  To thine own self be true.  Don't drink the water.  A cord of four strands is not easily broken.  Resistance is futile.  Just say no.  Size matters not.  It's the motion in the ocean.  Passion rules wisdom.  Clap if you believe in fairies.  The power is yours.  Life is pain – anybody who tells you different is either lying or selling something.  Don't tug on Hercule's cape; don't spit into the wind.  Don't pull the mask off the old lone ranger, and you don't mess around with Goku.  Infinite diversity in infinite combinations.  Never kill a mockingbird.  Only you can prevent forest fires.  And always remember to wear sunscreen.  Do you understand, Sarie Mue?"

Sarie, having long since stopped listening, was looking at the jewel in Mr. Popo's turban with great interest.  "You have a funny hat," she said.  

They stared at each other blankly for a beat.  "Go home, Sarie Mue," he said abruptly.  

"I wish I could go home," Sarie Mue retorted.  "But instead I'm stuck here, and I keep dying, and no one likes me, and I keep getting paired with these weirdos, and I didn't even get to see Piccolo."

Sarie stopped as she noticed a flash of pain in Mr. Popo's eyes.  "Please," Popo said calmly, belying his distressed eyes, "don't mention that name around me.  It is all too painful."

Sarie laid a hand on his shoulder sympathetically.  "What do you have against… um… against him."

Mr. Popo's eyes began to water slightly.  "He was the reason my master died oh so recently.  I can't even bear to think of it."  Popo stared straight ahead as the memory overtook him.  "You don't know what it's like to see someone you've known for hundreds of years – a man you've talked with, laughed with, learned from, a man you've come to respect and admire like a father – to watch him die, the light in his eyes slowly fading into nothing… leaving not so much as a corpse to mourn over."

Sarie hung her head, unsure of what to say.  "My cat died once.  I only had him for two weeks, but it was really sad when he died."

"Yes, I'm sure that was traumatic for you," Mr. Popo said dryly, collecting himself.

Sarie Mue wasn't sure if he was being sympathetic or sarcastic, so she let it go.  "Anyway, I guess I do need to go."

"You wish to leave?" Mr. Popo said in a blank voice.

Sarie shifted uncomfortably.  "Yeah, I guess I should."  Her only thought was getting off the Lookout to find someone she was more… compatible with.

Mr. Popo sighed.  "Alright.  If that is what you desire."  He walked slowly to the edge of the white tile.  Sarie was puzzled when he didn't slow down, and the horrified when he suddenly disappeared over the edge.

"NNOOOOOOO!!!!!" she screamed.  "I… I didn't think he would be so upset that I wanted to leave.  I didn't even think he liked me!  He must have really fallen for me, and the very thought of my leaving caused him to plunge to his doom!"  She fell to her knees, still wide-eyed with shock and regret.  "If only I had tried to understand…  If only I had…"

"Well, aren't you coming?" she heard a voice cut into her dramatic monologue.

Sarie looked up slowly to see Mr. Popo's head and shoulders floating at the edge of the white expanse of tile.  "W-wha…  How?"

Mr. Popo smiled slightly and hovered a little higher to show the rug underneath him.  "It's a magic carpet," he explained.  "Since I'm through with my gardening today, I decided that I could take you wherever you need to go."

Sarie looked at the carpet nervously.  "I've never been on a magic carpet.  Hey, how do I know you're not going to whisk me away to Antarctica and force me to play MahJong or something?"

Mr. Popo looked slightly affronted.  "What is with you human females?  Why does every human female think that Mr. Popo is going to force them to play MahJong?  It's because I'm black, isn't it?"

Sarie Mue backpedaled quickly.  "No, no, it's not that!  No, really, I'd love to take a ride with you.  It's just…"

Mr. Popo reached his hand out.  "Do you trust me?"

Sarie looked at the appendage uncertainly.  "I'm not sure."

"Do you trust me?" Mr. Popo repeated.

After a moment of searching Mr. Popo's eyes, she seemed to finally make a decision.  "Yes," she said firmly, grasping Mr. Popo's hand.  

She suddenly shrieked as she was pulled onto the carpet and felt a powerful rush of wind as the carpet soared up into the sky.  Mr. Popo sat down in a yoga position as Sarie clung to him for dear life.  After taking a few minutes to collect her wits, Sarie began to truly enjoy flying through the air.

"This is great!" Sarie exclaimed, hugging Mr. Popo tighter in her excitement.  "It's like seeing a _whole new world_ from here.  Seeing things from this high…  It's a new, fantastic point of view!"

"It must seem like that to you," Mr. Popo said happily.  "Where would you like to go?  I can show you the world.  The Taj Mahal, the Sphinx, the Great Pyramids… upside down as they are now… stupid Piccolo," he muttered.

Sarie grinned.  "I want to see it all!  Show me everything, and more!"

* * * * *

The two sat on the parapets of the Taj Mahal watching a fireworks display after a full day discovering the wonders of the world.  Sarie sighed happily, grinning at her companion.  She had truly grown close to him that day.  She felt that she could finally see past his outward appearance.  Sure, he talked about Kami with every other sentence, he loved his garden waaay too much, and he referred to himself in the third person… not to mention he was short… but he was also kind and understanding and wise and strong.  She had clung to him all day, and she found that she didn't mind being close to him at all.  It had even grown to be… kind of nice.  Perhaps the Great Will hadn't goofed after all.

"It was such a wonderful day," Sarie gushed, smiling slightly at Mr. Popo.

"I have enjoyed it as well," Popo said blithely, staring into the endless diamond sky.  "It was a nice break in routine.  And you've added a new perspective to my life.  I can't thank you enough."

Sarie let the casual words pass her by, pressing on.  "It must get so… lonely all by yourself in that big Lookout."

Mr. Popo sighed.  "Yes, especially now that I don't even have Kami.  It gets so lonely not having anyone to talk to, anyone to share your life with.  You have no idea how it is to be a eunuch all alone on that Lookout with only my gardens to tend to."

Sarie nodded.  "Yes, I can imagi… hey wait!" she broke off sharply.  "Did you say eunuch?  What do you mean by that?"

Mr. Popo looked slightly startled.  "Well, a man becomes a eunuch when someone cuts his—"

"I know what a eunuch is!!" Sarie cut him off, blushing furiously.  "I just wanted to know why you are one!"

Mr. Popo regarded Sarie quizzically.  "Why, it's one of the requirements for the honor of serving as the Kami's assistant.  It's simply to prove loyalty.  I'm sorry, I thought you knew."

Sarie stared at him blankly.  "Eunuch.  You mean, no MahJong?  Not even bad MahJong?  No MahJong at all?"  Her voice cracked at the end.

Mr. Popo shook his head.  "No MahJong."

Sarie Mue got up and dusted herself off.  "Now, this I just cannot abide by.  There seems to be something wrong with every guy that cosmic she-dog sticks me with!"  She let out a disgusted sigh.  "There's just one thing left to do."  With the casual air of much practice, Sarie walked over the edge of the Taj Mahal.  The festivities below came to an abrupt halt as the lifeless body of Sarie Mue splattered on the ground below, rivulets of blood streaming down the steps like so many crimson slinkys.

Mr. Popo looked down on the corpse that had prompted the macabre analogy involving children's playthings.  He was just beginning to process what had happened when a blue wispy figure materialized beside him.  "Ewwww," the newcomer commented, looking down.

The blue figure popped a microphone into his hand and put on a TV sports announcer voice.  "The form was excellent, but it looks like the judges are going to count off for the landing.  Let's take a look at the scores…"  The blue figure suddenly changed with a poof into three blue Olympic judges, holding up signs with the numbers "2.6", "3.1", and _Yuck!_" printed on them.

With another poof, the blue figure reverted to his normal state.  "I am sorry, Popo.  She did look really cute when her spinal column was still intact."

Mr. Popo hung his head slightly.  "Yes, Genie, she was.  I guess I really should have told her about being a eunuch right from the beginning."

Genie nodded.  "It's never good to hide things from people.  Remember… you must tell the TRRRUUUTTTHHH!!" Genie shouted, pointing at a blackboard he had materialized to make his point.

Before Mr. Popo could reply, Genie changed into a blue Bill Clinton.  "I did not tell a lie.  I did not play MahJong with that woman," he said in his best Clinton impression.

"Yes, I…" Mr. Popo began.

In another poof, Genie changed into a wooden schoolboy puppet with an abnormally large nose.  "It you tell the truth, you can be a real boy!"

Mr. Popo grabbed Genie by the shoulders and shook him until he was once again a big blue genie.  "Usually I don't mind your constant barrage of insane impressions, but right now I just want to be left alone, so I think you should leave."

Grabbing the genie's lamp from underneath him, Mr. Popo lobbed it into the sky as hard as he could.  Even as the genie disappeared into the distance, Popo could make out his voice, which had taken on the sound of a baseball announcer.  "It's going… and going…  And it's outta here!  Home run!  The crowd goes wild…"

Mr. Popo took one last look at the corpse of Sarie Mue far below, and then hopped on his carpet to head back to the Lookout.  "Oh, well.  I have to go water my lilies anyway."

In a distant desert, many miles away, the lamp finally spiraled toward the ground to make its landing – only to be swallowed whole by a gigantic cat head formed of sand.  With a loud _BUUUURP!, the cat head collapsed itself once more into the sandy desert floor._

* * * * *

            The Great Will of the Macrocosm folded her arms, imaginary lips pursed angrily as she looked at the shambles of her most recent failed experiment with Sarie Mue.  The scene of Sarie's lifeless corpse only further stoked her ire.  Within the starfield that was her body, it seemed that entire universes were trembling under the magnitude of her rage.

"I take the time out of my busy schedule…" the Great Will whispered hoarsely.  "I match her up with someone who would never hurt her…  I put her in the safest era of DBZ history… and WHAT DOES SHE DO?!!" the Great Will ended with a bellow.  She took a few calming breaths.  "She throws it away all because Mr. Popo doesn't have a MahJong board.  Who would want to imagine that anyway?" she ended with a shudder at the involuntary mental picture.

"It's bad enough that I have to deal with a militant group of abused characters and a parade of annoying hosts because of her.  Now, I have to handle her little suicidal temper tantrums, too?"  The Great Will let out a scream, several stars within her form blasting into the nova stage centuries ahead of time.

"She must be taught a lesson," the Great Will said in a firm voice, absently checking of Mr. Popo from her rapidly depleting list of possibilities.  "If Mr. Popo was too safe for her, then I'll put her with someone so dangerous and sadistic that she'll jump at the chance to be with a eunuch."

The Great Will paused at a name, wondering if even Sarie Mue deserved that.  She took one more look at Sarie's crushed body and strengthened her resolve.  "She deserves it," the Great Will said solemnly.

With a wave of her hand and a giggle of almost sadistic glee, the Great Will transported Sarie into the depths of space…

**Chapter 8: Frieza**


	8. Frieza

**Disclaimer**:  We don't own Dragonball Z.  Neither do we own a baby kangaroo.  But if we did, we'd make it wear a diaper and see if we could train it to carry a bottle.  It would be really cute.  

**Author's Notes**:

Blah blah blah 

Blah blah blah blah blah 

Blah blah… blah

OK, now that we've gotten that out of the way, I want to thank you for your patience for the next installment of this story.  Sarie Mue has not been forgotten (and neither has The Soul, just in case you were wondering).  I am doing the best I can with time constraints.  I will, however, work harder to find time to write.  Not to worry.  Everything will be just fine.  Sure…

Anyway, I'm writing for both myself and Howler.  We wish to invite you to partake of Sarie Mue's harrowing experience with Sarie Mue.  I must warn you, this is a sad tale full of misery.  It is not for the faint of heart.  If you want to read something happy, please exit this webpage and go read the comics or something right now.  You will find nothing happy in this chapter.  Do not be fooled by the cheery disclaimer featuring a baby kangaroo.  There will be no further mention of baby kangaroos, unless said joey is miserable or sad.  Thank you.

We'd also like to thank our reviewers:

**Lil Shady**: We do put so many Monty Python references in, it's almost getting old.  We're trying to hone down on them.  But, when you have the masters of comedy right there, it's irresistible to give them a nod every once in a while.

**Chuquita**:  Maybe we'll give a taste of Veggie sooner than you think…

**Nice-day**:  I'm not sure if you're up to this chapter yet, but thank you for picking up the story.  Thank you for the profuse praise, though.  We've seen so many comedy/parody fics, and have noticed that the authors don't even try, or have a sort of trite humor, since a lot of them are new to DBZ and fanfiction.  And, yes, I know.  We're bad.  LOL, and all those other inane chat responses.

**Dark Wolf**:  Hey, wolf man.  I'll have you know that I've been working hard on the next installment of The Soul.  It's just that I've got a lot to say and little time to write with.  Oh well.  Work on Recoil, why don't ya.

**Prologue**: 

The Great Will of the Macrocosm stood arms akimbo assessing the damage that had been done.  _Le Resistance_, formerly given to smaller guerrilla strikes, had become more aggressive lately.  The chronically abused characters were out for revenge on those who had taken them for granted.  

Peering through dimensional rifts into the various realities of their origins, the Great Will saw that the Bat Cave had caved in… a small red and green flag standing out in stark contrast atop the pile of rubble.  

Hogwarts had been closed and reopened as a proper "muggle" boarding school.  Young Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had been expelled and sent to the insane asylum for believing that they could do magic.  They now spent their days in a drugged haze picking flowers off the wallpaper.

"Neville's doing, no doubt," muttered the Great Will. 

A red-bearded cowboy and a bald-headed hunter were enjoying a meal of roast rabbit.  

"This is the rootin' tootinest dang meal I ever had!" screamed the cowboy.  

"Yup," agreed the hunter.  "It's weawy scwumptious.  Huhuhuhuhuhuh…" 

The Great Will wrung her hands in angst.  "This is becoming too much!" she said.  "Look at me!  I'm wringing my hands in angst, for goodness sake!"

"Well, there's nothing for it now," she said resolutely.  "It's time to teach that little trollop a lesson.  And I think I know just the man… or whatever he is… to set the mood."  With a snap of her fingers, a dank, dusty, decrepit dungeon appeared around her.  

In one corner, covered in cobwebs and crawling with creeping creatures, a crusty creaking coffin suddenly burst open to reveal a decayed skeleton which promptly sat up and let out a terrible screeching cackle that would raise one's hackles and scare off a mackerel who happened to be drinking a Snapple and munching on an apple!  

**Okay that's just stupid.  **

**So, sans the silly alliterative arts and wretched rhyming parts, we shall continue.  **

"Eeeeeee-heee-heee-hee-hee-heeeeee" screeched the skeleton.  "Heee-heee," he added. 

"So, it is time for another terrifying tale of pain and peril as we look in on that stupid cow, Sarie MOOOOOOOO!" he snickered sinisterly.  

"In this chilling story, Sarie tries to give Frieza the cold shoulder and finds out that he's not very ICE!" he tittered terribly.  "I guess she just got cold feet!" he chuckled chillingly.  "She should learn to keep her cool!" he cackled cacophonously.  

**Wow, this is really bad!  We should stop.  This inane game is becoming a pain.  It's simply insane!  What is there to gain?  Some may insist we cease this silliness, but it is our tale, thus we shall decide when it ends.  Mwuahaaa!**

"So without further adieu," continued the corpse, "Let's see what surprises slip up on Sarie in this painful parable I like to call… "Sarie Mue and the Cold-Hearted Killer!!!"

**(a.k.a.)**** Chapter 8: Frieza**

Sarie Mue awoke to find herself in a dark cell.  Three tiny slits of light filtered in between bars in a view-hole on the solid metal door.  "Where am I?" she asked aloud.  

A childlike voice chuckled wryly in response.  "If there's a bright, shining center of the universe, this is the place farthest from it."  

"Wh..who's there?" she asked, squinting in the darkness in a vain search for the speaker.  

"I am – obviously," the voice said, and a light suddenly appeared, illuminating the upraised hand and fierce expression of a familiar five-year old Saiyan prince as he danced a ball of ki playfully over his fingertips.  

Her eyes goggled as she viewed the fantasies of so many fangirls in chibi form.  "Oh my goodness…you're…you're Vegeta!"  

"That's Prince Vegeta to you!" he declared.  "Destined to be the greatest of all Saiyan warriors – and tallest, I'll bet."  

Sarie looked around, frowning.  "But if you're a prince, then why are you in this dark dungeon?" she asked.  

Vegeta's frown deepened.  He was obviously not pleased with his surroundings either.  "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm in the dungeon because I pissed off Frieza by calling him a 'fat, floating grandmother.'  And it's dark because I was trying to take a nap."  He walked over and flipped a light switch, flooding the room with soft lighting.  

"But then you had to get thrown in here and wake me up.  So I guess I'll go back to target practice."  He proceeded to sit down and incinerate rats with tiny ki blasts, leaving them piles of steaming black ash on the bare metal floor.  "These rats are too small.  I wish we had some bigger ones to blow up," he complained.

"Y-yeah," was all she could think to answer, though the prospect of wishing for larger rats seemed ludicrous.  

"I remember when I went with some of the guys to take over this one planet – it had these rodents of unusual size, I think they called them womp rats."  Vegeta's face brightened at one of his few pleasant memories.  "They were two meters wide!  You know, about the size of a thermal exhaust port, right below the main port on a gigantic planet-destroying war machine?  The port that opens to the shaft leading directly to the reactor system?  The one vulnerable spot where a precise hit could lead to a chain-reaction destroying the entire station?"  He looked at her expectantly. 

Sarie stared into his wide, somewhat-innocent eyes.  "You're so CUTE as a kid," she blurted out.  

The color quickly rose in his cheeks.  "What do you mean, 'I'm cute as a kid?'  What the hell else do you expect me to be - an ugly teenager?  I've never even met you before, you perverted psycho, which is obvious given the fact that I haven't gotten around to killing you yet.  If you say one more word, I'm going to use you as target practice instead of these undersized rats!"

"Okay," she responded quietly.  She knew not to mess with Vegeta.  However…

"THAT'S ONE WORD!" he screamed, and began blasting her with a barrage of ki shots which quickly, though it seemed like an eternity to her, drew the attention of the guard posted outside the cell.  

He threw open the door and cast a dark glare at the Saiyan prince.  "Am I gonna have to send you to the chokey again?"  He looked down at the severely singed, unconscious form of Sarie Mue.  "What've I told you about blowin' up the other prisoners?"

Vegeta let out a petulant sigh.  "Never blow up another prisoner without asking for permission first," he said in a mocking rote recitation.

"That's right," said the guard, not hearing or caring for the prince's sarcastic tone.  "And did you ask permission this time?"  

"No," answered Vegeta.  "But why should I have to?  Do you know who I am?"  Vegeta pulled himself to his full height and seemed to be trying to draw a sort of commanding royal aura.  "I am destined to be the greatest warrior in the universe!  I am the son of prophecy!  I am the product of hundreds of years of planning and precise evolution of the Saiyan to its most perfect, purest state of ultimate power.  I will someday become the first and only…" the young prince paused, savoring the words he was about to speak, "Super Saiyan!" 

The guard looked at him quietly for a second… before bursting into laughter.  "And I'm gonna be the tooth fairy!"  He ignored the burning gaze of the youngster.  "Well, if you're gonna be all that, you'd better start training before someone else beats you to it!  In the meantime, quit blowing up the other prisoners.  Lord Frieza has plans for this one."  He nudged the unconscious form of Sarie Mue with his foot.  "I'd better get her patched up."  

With that, he slung Sarie over his shoulder, slamming the cell shut behind him.  **Notice the fine alliteration?  We weren't even trying on that one!  **_Get on with it!  _**Yeah, yeah…**And he proceeded down the corridor.

*****

Sarie awoke to see tiny rows of bubbles floating in front of her eyes.  She looked down to see that she was floating in a tube of… something, breathing through a snorkel-like apparatus over her face.  

In typical anime fashion, (**those perverted artists!**) she wore no clothes, but the essentials were covered (**Just barely!  Those sickos…) by a metallic bikini with bizarre tubes and pipes sticking out in odd directions.**  

A voice, presumably a doctor, began speaking to her over a radio transmitter inside the glass tube which encased her in the odd fluid.  "I'm glad to see that you're awake!  I heard you had quite a tumble with the young prince!  You had third degree burns over half your body!  Hehe." 

Sarie felt the good-natured chuckle somewhat out of place, but waited for him to continue.

"Anyways, we decided it'd be fun to strip you down and put you in a big tank of goo.  It's like something off of Barbarella, huh?  Boy, looking at females helplessly trapped inside insidious-looking alien machines gets me turned on.  Hehe…"

_Again with the inappropriate good-natured laugh_, she thought.  

The doctor continued.  "But this stuff will fix you up pretty quick, aside from giving your skin that alluring orange glow…" He paused, apparently lost in thought.  "It speeds up cellular regeneration of any kind.  It's especially effective for burns."

He kept rattling on for awhile, apparently proud of this particular treatment.  "Yeah, a lot of folks think the Saiyans came up with these.  Hah!  Saiyans are more likely to kill and eat their wounded than bother to treat them!  We got these tanks of it from some squid people… the… um… Mon Calimonies or something…  They call them Bacta tanks, but we're calling them 'Rejuvenation Chambers.'  Sounds much cooler, don't you think, Sweet Stuff?"

Sarie answered with an angry glare and a snort, sending up a shower of bubbles.  

"Hehe, you're a feisty one, aren't you?"  He turned as a small bell _Dinged_ behind him.  "Well that means you're done!  I guess we need to get you out of that metal bikini!  Er…  Out of that tank, what did I say?  Out of that sexy metal bikini?  Hehe.  What was I thinking?"

Sarie had a pretty good guess actually, but declined to comment on it as the sticky orange goo drained out of the tank.  Thankfully, the doctor left the room before the metal restraints popped off, giving her a chance to slip into a robe before he returned.  

"Well, then," began the doctor, walking into the room, "I am Doctor Hentai.  Let's give you the once over."  

She jumped back, but saw what he meant as he pulled out a medical tricor… umm… medical scanner thingy in no way related to Star Trek and began pointing it at various parts of her body and jotting down readings.  

"Yep," he finally said.  "Looks like you're in tip-top shape!  Which is good.  Lord Frieza likes for his prisoners to be healthy…"  Under his breath he added, "Before they're broken."  

"What was that?" she asked, not quite hearing him.  

"Nothing!  I was just saying that you seem absolutely fine."  His gaze swept up and down her form, pausing at the appropriate (or inappropriate) places, "Yep.  You are certainly fine.  Now get properly dressed and prepare to meet with Lord Frieza," he pointed, indicating a dressing room.  

"Meet with FRIEZA?" she shouted.  But the doctor had already exited the room through a hexagon-shaped door.  

_I hope the Great Will wasn't thinking what I think she was thinking,_ thought Sarie Mue as she moved into the dressing room.  She looked at the mirror, assessing her appearance.  

**Ya**** see?  We spent all that time making bad puns and rhymes and whatnot and we're five pages in before we even get to the obligatory "what does she look like this time" scene!  Geez…  And what was the title of this chapter?  Baby Vegeta and the Perverted Doctor?  No!  (Although with some of the fanfics we've read, that one might be out there somewhere…yuck!)  But the title of this chapter was Frieza!  And have we even seen him yet?  Nope.  Now let's get a move on people!**

Looking closely at herself, she realized for the first time that her skin had a slight blue tinge to it.  This contrasted with her long, straight orange hair.  

_I'm an alien_, she thought.  

The rest of her form wasn't so surprising.  She was waifishly thin with impossibly large breasts (as if the perverted animators would ever draw a female with a different form) and perfect facial features.

"Well," she said aloud.  "For a blue-skinned, orange-haired alien chick, I'm certainly a knockout!"  

She looked at the outfit that had been provided for her.  It was a skin-tight, partially transparent leotard-like garment.  Slipping it on, she noticed it dipped down dangerously far in the front.  She looked for the clothes she would be wearing over what she assumed had to be a form of alien underwear.  

There were none. 

"So I have to meet Frieza wearing _this_!" she asked her reflection.  Her reflection, in response, just shrugged at her.  Sarie did a double-take, but after a moment let it go.

Regardless, she exited the room to find a figure in armor waiting for her, checking his face in a pocket-mirror.  He folded the mirror shut with a _click_ and put it in his pocket to reveal the aqua-marine face of… Zarbon!  

"I'll be escorting you to his grand high exalted supremeness, Lord Frieza," Zarbon said, tossing his verdant locks over his shoulder.  

"Okay…" Sarie said timidly.  

As they walked, Zarbon rattled off a long list of the "do's and don'ts" of meeting with Frieza.  

"When you meet with Lord Frieza, you should bow to one knee and remain silent until he acknowledges you.  If you don't, you die.  You should always address him as either 'your highness,' 'your evilness,' or 'Lord Frieza.'  There are other acceptable appellations, but I doubt you'd remember them so stick with those.  If you refer to him as anything else… you die.  Do _not_ sneeze in the presence of Lord Frieza.  If you have to sneeze, I suggest you cut off your nose.  Should you sneeze in the presence of Lord Frieza… you die.  Do not fart in the presence of…"  On and on the list went.  She tried to keep up with all of his instructions as she followed him down a serious of corridors, but her mind was on other things.  Sarie was positively terrified of the presence she knew she'd have to face at the end of them.  She had seen the show.  She had seen the movies.  She had especially read the fanfictions.  She knew what sort of monster Frieza was… what evil he was capable of.  This was a destroyer of worlds.  This was a being who gave less than a thought to destroying entire races, much less killing a single, scared, scantily-clad, blue-skinned alien chick.  

She thought that dying so many times would have cured her of her terror of death, but it hadn't.  At least, not the kind of death that Frieza would give her.  This was no quick, painless plunge off the Taj Mahal.  This would be years of screaming, screeching torturous agony.  If half the things she'd read about Frieza were true, she would beg for death long before it came to her.  This would be a fic of NC-17 proportions!  And then it would be taken off Fanfiction.net, so then where would she be?!

Reaching a tall set of double doors, Zarbon paused.  "You stay here," he ordered.  "I shall see if his evilness is prepared to meet with you."  He paused.  "You're lucky I chose to tell you how to behave in front of Lord Frieza.  You caught me in a good mood."  

He eyed her.  "And I simply _love _your shade of blue!  You're almost as pretty as me."  He reached for the skull-shaped handle of the door.  "Almost."  With a final flip of his emerald hair and a catty smirk, he opened the door and slipped inside and shut the door… almost.  

Sarie noticed he had left the door open a mere fraction of an inch – just enough for her to see and hear what was transpiring in the room.  Looking through the slit, she saw that Frieza was addressing young Vegeta, who was kneeling before Frieza's floating form.  

"So," Frieza said airily.  "You have disobeyed me yet again?"

Vegeta, while innately disdainful of any kind of authority, was not stupid.  He knew when he had gone too far.  And there may have even been a slight tremble in his voice as he answered.  "How so, Lord Frieza?"

Frieza lifted a finger, sending a bolt of ki toward the young Saiyan.  To his credit, Vegeta did not move a muscle as the ki seared a hole through the floor beside his bended knee.  

"Don't play innocent with me, _prince_!" Frieza said, making an insult of the word.  "You tried to kill another prisoner without my permission, didn't you?"  

Vegeta swallowed, knowing he was caught.  "Yes, Lord Frieza."  

Frieza's floatation device turned in the air, allowing him to look out of the hexagonal web-like window at the blackness of space.  "So, you know that you must be punished, don't you?" Frieza asked, his tone again calm, as if he were inquiring about the weather. 

"Yes, Lord Frieza," Vegeta said, turning pale.  

_Here it comes_, Sarie thought as she watched.  _I've read about the kinds of punishments and tortures that Frieza inflicted upon Vegeta.  I wonder what he'll do to him this time._  She flinched, almost closing her eyes.  _I can't watch._

"Let's see then," Frieza mused aloud.  "What punishment would be fit for a royal brat who has yet to learn his station?"  Frieza turned – ever so slowly – to face Vegeta once again.  "Hmm…   I know!"

Sarie tensed.

"Vegeta!" declared Frieza, "You shall go to your room and think about what you did!  For…a whole hour!"  

"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!" shouted the young prince.  "Not time out!  Please!"

"Yes!" said Frieza.  "And no viewing screen OR video games, either!"

Vegeta collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.  "B..but Lord Frieza…"

"Shall I make it _two _hours, then?" asked Frieza.

"N..noo…but…" Vegeta started.

"I'm going to count to three, and if I get to three, it will be two hours, young Saiyan!" Frieza warned.

"No!" shouted Vegeta, jumping to his feet, sniffling as the tears continued to stream down his pudgy cheeks.  "I'll go!"  

And, tucking his tail between his legs, he turned and trudged out of the room through a side door.  Zarbon's eyes followed the mini-Saiyan as he left.  Zarbon smirked.  "Stupid monkey," he muttered under his breath.

"Stop that stomping!" called Frieza after Vegeta.  

Sarie simply stared, slack-jawed at the surprising scene she'd seen.  Frieza wasn't supposed to send Vegeta to time out!  He was supposed to torture him for hours on end.  He was supposed to stick needles in his eyes and then send him to the medic to be healed so he could stick more needles in his eyes!  Frieza was a monster – the kind of ruthless, psychotic being that inflicted horrors beyond the imagination on the innocent child Vegeta!  

"What's going on here?" she whispered to herself. 

Zarbon, still smirking to himself, finally stepped forward to address Frieza.  "Shall I escort the prisoner into your dark and sinister presence, oh fiendish one?" he asked, bowing before the floating figure.

"Not yet," answered Frieza.  "I want to look my best for this one."  

With much grunting and screaming and lots of scary glowing and creepy background music, Frieza forced his fat, grandmotherly form to morph first into a towering, muscled behemoth, then a drooling, fanged, monstrous form resembling the offspring of a Ridley Scott alien and an ill-tempered goose.  Finally, he changed one last time, emerging as the diminutive-yet-menacing familiar figure who had faced Goku in their final foray – Frieza, final form. 

"Now," said Frieza, flexing his hands as he became comfortable in his changed body, "I am ready."

Sarie scurried back scared as she saw Zarbon come toward the door, but she knew that there was really nowhere to run.  

Throwing the doors open, the effeminate warrior made a curiously gentlemanly gesture for her to enter, as if she were a guest and not a terrified prisoner.  

Trembling, she began to step gingerly forward as Zarbon began an often-rehearsed introduction speech. 

"I present to you his royal greatness, prince of the changelings, dark terror of the universe, scourge of the galaxies, emperor of the known universe, the greatest warrior known to any civilization, three time winner of the annual planet-exploding award, and leader of the deadliest fighting force in existence.  You should bow and pay homage to his general badness and all-around maliciousness.  He is the thing which the demons fear!  He is the…uh…" Zarbon froze – terrified.  He had forgotten part of the speech.  "Destroyer of the helpless…the killer of…um…little puppies and…er…flowers?" 

Frieza's eyes flicked over to Zarbon, narrowing darkly.  "Zarbon?" said Frieza.

"Y-yes my Lord?" he replied, a single drop of sweat trickling its way down the lieutenant's girlish features.

"Come closer," said Frieza, curling one finger in a 'come-hither' gesture.

"As you wish, my Lord," squeaked Zarbon, trembling.

"That's it," Frieza said, his demonic red eyes glowing with malevolence as the sexually ambivalent soldier made his way toward him.  "Just a little closer.  Now lean in a bit." 

"Y-yes?" Zarbon asked, his voice a hoarse whisper as he inclined his head toward the changeling.  

Sarie didn't even see Frieza's hand move as he quickly slapped Zarbon across the face with a resounding _SMACK!_  Zarbon's head rolled across the throne room floor as his hands searched above his neck for the things he treasured most – his face and his gorgeous hair.

Frieza sighed.  "I've told you before not to forget the speech.  I swear, Zarbon.  You'd forget your head if it wasn't atta… oh… sorry."  Frieza let out a sinister laugh.  "Go put that thing back on and come back when you can remember the introduction."  

Zarbon's body gave an awkward bow before picking up its head by the ponytail and stumbling out of the room.    

Frieza smirked cruelly as his eyes followed Zarbon's exit.  Then, his glowing crimson eyes locked onto the trembling form of Sarie Mue. 

"Come forward, slave," commanded Frieza.  

Sarie tried desperately to remember all of the things that Zarbon the headless wonder had told her to do when meeting Frieza, but somehow all she could think of was the bloody painful death that she knew was awaiting her as she edged slowly forward toward him.

"I suppose you are wondering why you're here," began Frieza.

Sarie waited until she was certain he expected an answer.  "Y-yes.  I would like to know that – um… Lord Frieza… sir," she stammered. 

"You are here because you are the princess of the planet we just finished destroying a few hours ago, and…"

"Really?!" Sarie interrupted, forgetting who she was speaking to.  "Wow!  I'm a princess!  That's really cool."

"ARE YOU MOCKING ME?" shouted Frieza.  "Don't be sarcastic with me!  You know who you are, and you know who I am, and if you know what's good for you, you will address me with respect and give me straight answers!"  His voice took on its former deadly calm.  "Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Y-yes your high evilness," Sarie squeaked.  

"That's good," replied Frieza.  "Now, as I was saying, it is my custom to keep the highest ranking and/or prettiest member of the planet's ruling body as a personal slave…or harem girl.  You of course, with your light blue skin, orange hair, waifish frame and impossibly large breasts **(Just making sure you remember!)** are the most attractive of the royal family and shall therefore be one of my many concubines."

"You're going to turn me into some ugly spiky animal?!" shouted Sarie.  "You're worse than I thought!  Everyone says that you're a monster, but that's just sick!  And… wrong!"

A vein in Frieza's forehead began to throb violently as he scowled at her.  For a second, it looked as though he might blast her out of existence, but then he began to smile.  

"I said she was pretty; I never said she was smart," he said quietly.  Raising his voice, he said to her, "A concubine is a harem girl – a slave to satisfy my whims.  You will wear ridiculous and impractical outfits and wait on me hand and foot and tail.  You will do everything and anything I ask of you without question, even if it involves extremely personal and disgusting hygiene procedures.  Should I wish you to play a game of MahJong, you will whip out the board immediately.  **(If you know what I mean, eh gov'?  Whipping out the board, ay?  'Ay?  Hint hint nudge nudge wink wink say no more!)  **Now, do you understand or shall I just kill you now, you insignificant speck of Bantha fodder?"  

"I..I understand," she answered meekly.  She didn't know what he planned for her, but she knew she didn't want to be killed by Frieza.  

"And by the way," Frieza continued, his red eyes going from menacing to concerned.  "What did you mean about people saying I'm evil?  What have you heard?  I always like to hear my press."

"Well," she began, not sure where to start.  "Umm…they say…" She fell silent, afraid of what Frieza might do to her.

"Spit it out, wench!" he said.  "I won't punish you.  I want to know what the Andorians of your planet have heard about me."  

"For one thing, they say that you enslave entire races, blow up planets, pillage resources and squander them on yourself and your generals, that you begin writing good fanfictions but abandon them unresolved after two chapters, that you buy and sell whole solar systems as though you owned them, that you think morals are paintings on walls, that you don't recycle, that you make 1-900 calls to naughty sex lines, that you hate Christmas, that you are the one who sends Viagra spam e-mails, that you torture small puppies to hear them whine and howl, that Jar Jar Binks was your idea, that you boil your enemies alive in pots of boiling tears that you've collect one by one from tortured slaves and captives and fall asleep listening to their screams of agony, that you were the second gunman on the grassy knoll, that you bought Nero his very first fiddle, that you double-dip, that you are the world's only living heart donor, that you read naughty mangas like _Love Hina_, that you force your subjects to wear plaid with stripes and iron their blue jeans, that you perform disgusting gene-splicing experiments on babies and turn them into half-animals like Anne Geddes does, that you end sentences with prepositions and often dangle modifiers, that you bathe in the blood of captured virgins, that you bite your toenails, torture innocent people by forcing them to watch Mary Kate and Ashley movies, flame other people's fanfictions under assumed login names, that you don't floss, that you have entered into an alliance with the koalas, that you were the one who convinced them to let Shatner direct _Star Trek V_, that you invented Brussels sprouts, you cause cows to dance and pigs to fly, seduce the queen in her own bedchamber, that you are hiding the weapons of mass destruction, that you got Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera their starts, that you enjoy clog dancing loudly at night to keep people awake, and that you kind of smell bad."

Frieza sat for a moment, stunned.  "I see," he finally answered.  "Well that's all true enough, I suppose.  Is that all?"  

"Well," Sarie said uncomfortably, knowing she had left the most prominent and important part out of it.  "No."  

"What else could they possibly say?" asked Frieza, genuinely curious.

"They say that you severely mistreat the young Saiyan, Prince Vegeta." 

"WHAT?!!" Frieza bellowed.  "I never… never ever…" he cut off, too frustrated to speak.  

"So you don't?" she asked, recalling all of the horrors of the fanfictions.  

"OF COURSE NOT!" he screamed.  "THAT'S JUST… MEAN!"  

Sarie couldn't see how someone who happily admitted to boiling people in their own tears would take affront at being thought of as mean, but she waited for him to continue. 

Frieza started towards her, reaching his hands out.  She shied back, frightened, but he merely grabbed both of her hands, as if pleading with her to understand.

"I love that boy like my own son!" exclaimed Frieza.  "More even!  I ate most of my own children!"  

"Really?" asked Sarie Mue, too surprised to be afraid anymore.

"Yes!  I mean, sure I blew up his planet and killed his father a few months ago, but I was just trying to help him build character.  I want him to take over the empire when I'm gone.  That boy has potential." 

"B-but, they say that you torture him and that you beat him senseless and…"

"I would never!" declared Frieza, his practically nonexistent sensibilities shocked.  "He is a willful child, and I sometimes have to punish him…"

"Like by jabbing his eyes out with needles and pulling off his fingernails with pliers, of making really disturbing yaoi fic situations with him, or forcing him to kill his own friends or love interests or sister, right?" she asked.

Frieza's eyes grew wide with horror, and he covered his open mouth with one hand.  "Dear me, no!" he said.  "Wherever do you hear such awful things?   I send him to time out or make him do extra chores or take away his allowance.  I would never do such things to my little solider!  I'm not going to be around forever… well, unless it turns out that there are magic balls on some godforsaken vegetarian planet that would let me summon a dragon and wish for immortality, but what are the odds of that?  Anyway, what I mean is that Vegeta is going to be my heir.  I'm training him to take over someday."

Frieza looked off into the distance, a small smile on his lips.  "I mean, what's the point in being a sadistic, evil world-destroying tyrant like me if you don't give something back to the little ones?  The children, especially the little prince, are our future.  We have to let them lead the way.  You know what I mean?" 

"S-so you really want Vegeta to grow up to be a leader someday?  You want him to rule your empire?" she asked, still a little slow on the uptake.

"That's what I've been saying," Frieza said.  "I can see him now, standing tall and proud in his armor, looking noble and wise as he surveys his minions and lackeys.  But he might need to change his hair, though.  Perhaps dye it blonde or something?  He might look quite the handsome young man if he were to go blonde, don't you think?"

"Yeah," agreed Sarie.  "He just might do that someday."  

"So what am I going to do about these rumors?  They really are terrible.  And did everyone on your planet think this about me?" Frieza asked.

Sarie, of course, had no idea what the Andorians had thought.  She had just been plugged conveniently into their society for plot purposes by very tired authors.  So she decided to fake it. 

"Uh…yeah.  Yep.  Every last one," she told him.

"I see," Frieza said musingly.  "Well, if the Andorians thought I would hurt my precious little Saiyapoo, it's a good thing I've killed them all." 

He stopped, eyeing her suspiciously.  "Well, almost all of them…"  

*****

Minutes later, as the guards loaded Sarie into a torpedo tube to be shot out into the depths of space where her body would implode from the vacuum, she thought about what she had learned that day.  

_You know_, Sarie thought to herself, _sometimes you can't believe everything you read._

*****

            The Great Will of the Macrocosm smacked her forehead… or the general area of her starfield that would represent her forehead.  Usually articulate to a fault, all she could utter was a pained "d'oh."

            "Well, what did I expect, really?" she asked herself.  "I mean, Frieza had it pegged when he said she wasn't smart.  She isn't.  I should be thankful that she at least learned something.  Know what I mean?"

            The various gagged hostages merely grunted unintelligibly.  Wesley Crusher from Star Trek: TNG was hanging upside down from a rope suspended from the ceiling.  Wesley Wyndam Price from Buffy: TVS was currently tied to a sleeping Whomping Willow.  And Wile E. Coyote was embedded under many layers of rock and wondering why there were so many W names.

            The Great Will crossed her arms and sighed happily.  "At least I have this to satisfy me.  The brains of _Le Resistance_, all in my grasp.  Without these three, Chichi's workings will be severely impaired."  She paused for a second.  "I might want to check and see if Bulma has joined _Le Resistance_.  Is she considered a chronically abused minor character?  Hmm… worth looking in to."

            The Great Will brushed it off for a moment.  "Right.  It appears that Sarie Mue is now dead again.  Since that was my intention, I suppose I'll need to put her up in another situation… maybe something that will conceivably work this time."  She consulted her trusty checklist.

            "Lately I've been trying the ones that aren't usually featured in romance fanfiction," the Great Will said absently to herself.  "It appears they weren't featured for good reason.  They make horrible love interests.  I suppose I might try a more traditional character…"

            The Great Will's sight lit upon one of the names.  "Ah.  This would be an actual idea.  Someone who is incredibly strong, yet down to earth and dependable.  Let's give it a whirl."

**Chapter 9: Gohan**


	9. The Great Saiyaman Gohan

**Disclaimer**: Okay, so for all of you people out there who think we own Dragonball Z (and who could blame you?  Our story is EXACTLY like the show, after all…) we really don't.  Got that?  Good.  Now, moving on…

**Arthur's notes**:  Behold, I have Excalibur!  I am King of all the Britons.  I like to wear dragons on my outfits, and I say funny words like 'prythee' and 'verily' and 'smite' and 'forsooth!'  Yea, I verily find myself sighing with great contentment.  It's good to be the king. 

**Author's notes**:  No, you are not dreaming or hallucinating (or having visions, as I like to give my characters in "The Soul").  This really is the next chapter in "Sarie Mue."  Really.  We aren't kidding you.  You can check it with our sources.  You can put us through a lie-detector test.  You can torture us for the information.  Or… you can simply read the chapter.  Got that?  Good.

**Prologue**:  The Great Will of the Macrocosm glanced up from her battle plans as her latest 'volunteer' announcer began his introduction. 

"THE CITY OF TOWNSVILLE…er…THE WORLD OF…um…FANFICTION?"  The sourceless voice, seeming to echo from everywhere and nowhere all at once, let out an exasperated sigh. 

"MRS. WILL, I REALLY DON'T KNOW WHERE TO GO WITH THIS.  I USUALLY JUST WORK IN THE ONE AREA…AND I MAKE A FEW FUNNY COMMENTS ABOUT THE POWERPUFF GIRLS OR THE MAYOR AND THEN CLOSE THE EPISODE WITH A PUN.  THIS IS A BIT BEYOND MY USUAL SCOPE."

The Great Will let out an exasperated sigh of her own. "I've already told you, just keep it simple.  I mean, even Shatner managed to do this, so it can't be that complicated!

"OKAY, THEN," said the voice.  "DID YOU SAY THIS STORY HAD A SUPERHERO IN IT, TOO?" 

"Now, now…  We can't give away too much," the Great Will said.  "Just give us a good basic intro and then I'll let you get back to floating omnisciently over Townsville." 

The voice seemed mollified.  "ALRIGHTY THEN!" he said cheerfully.

"THE WORLD OF FANFICTION!  WHERE _ANYTHING_ CAN HAPPEN!"

Pictures began to form to compliment his narrative.  A city appeared, floating cars zipping merrily by and children running happily through the streets with "I Love Satan" T-shirts proudly displayed, pictures of an afroed-fighter giving a V-for-victory sign plastered across their chests.

"BUT…OH NO!  WHAT'S THIS?"

A group of men in ski masks and striped outfits were crashing through the doors of the Satan City Bank. 

"A BANK ROBBERY?!  WHO CAN STOP THESE FIENDISH FELONS FROM FINISHING THIS DASTARDLY DEED?  WELL, WHO ELSE BUT…

THE POW…er…of…THE GREAT SAIYAMAN?!!

The opening credits begin – shots of the green clad fighter flash by, his white head-covering flapping dramatically in the wind in one scene – silhouetted against a sunset in the next – kneeling in front of a blossoming cherry tree in the next…

Cheesy music plays throughout this intro sequence.  And, like most anime, the intro song has compelling-yet-strangely-incoherent lyrics.  A sultry female voice begins to sing:

_Going ever forward, you face ever-new challenges,_

_Yet never satisfied until you find the battle you seek,_

_Never truly happy until the thing which you want to prove has been proven,_

_To everyone but yourseeeeeeelf!_

_._

_Never forgetting the promise I made to you,_

_That one perfect day…  I will find you again someday – _

_And even if I never do, then at least my journey_

_Will have been with the crying of the tears on my faaaaaace!_

_._

_Walking into a red sunset, with friendship as my guide,_

_But what is the use of love if you will always walk alone?_

_What is hiding behind the masks I am wearing?_

_Seeking that shining moment when it will finally rising,_

_To fly above the skyyyyyyyyyyy!_

.

**Chapter 9: Saiyaman and Sarie Mue**

"READY!" shouted one of Frieza's guards. 

Sarie prepared herself for the inevitable.  After all, at least she wasn't going to be tortured by Frieza.  He'd decided to get rid of her quickly. 

"AIM!" shouted the guard. 

_Well,_ she thought.  _This is certainly a new way to go._

"F-," the guard was suddenly cut off. 

"What?" Sarie asked aloud, just as the universe tore itself into a thousand thousand pieces. 

All the color and all the meaning seemed to fade away until Sarie could see nothing but a jumble of multi-colored lights. 

_I certainly never thought getting fired out of a torpedo tube would be like a kaleidoscope_, she thought. 

Suddenly, the colored coalesced into one dominant theme – sky blue with puffy white spots dotted here and there.

"Wow!" said Sarie.  "This looks just like the sky." 

It then occurred to Sarie Mue that she actually was in the sky and was falling.  This occurred to here because she happened to turn over in the air and see that she was about to collide with the cement-covered ground. 

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" screamed Sarie Mue.  "Aaaaah!" she added.

Just then, a green blur appeared and she felt herself rushing upwards away from the dreaded ground.  She felt a pair of strong, polyester-clad arms holding her.  Turning around see her rescuer, she saw a bug-like helmet with a dark visor. 

"The Great Saiyaman?!" she screamed above the rushing of the wind. 

"That's me!  Here to save the helpless and protect the…uh…ones who may need to be protected!  Justice will always prevail!  Hoo-hah!" he exclaimed.

_Oh my goodness!_ thought Sarie Mue.  _The Great Will decided to skip the blowing up part and drop me right into The Great Saiyaman's arms!  This is GREAT!  This is what she should have done in the first place._

He landed at a nearby park andplaced here gently on her feet. 

"Wow!" she said.  "I can't believe it's really you!"

"Uh," the masked figure replied, one arm reaching back to scratch his head nervously.  "Yeah.  It's me!" he finally stuttered.

"You saved my life!" exclaimed Sarie Mue.  "I thought I was a goner for sure."

The masked figure suddenly struck a ridiculous pose - one foot one the ground, one foot jutting at an awkward angle out into the air.  He stuck his arms above his head and bent them downward, effectively making a "McDonald's" arch.  A burst of red and white stripes appeared behind him (looking nothing like the U.S. flag, of course). 

At the top of his lungs, he screamed, "IT'S ALL IN A DAY'S WORK FOR," he sucked in a huge breath, "**THE GREAT SAIYAMAAAAAAN!!!**"   

Sarie Mue simply stared blankly at him.  He continued to hold the pose. 

She coughed quietly.  He began to sweat.

"Are you done?" she asked.

He finally dropped his arms and put his foot down.  "Yeah, I guess so," he said.

"Okay," she replied.

"You don't seem to be too impressed," the Great Saiyaman said, somewhat disappointed.

"Oh, no!" she said quickly.  "The flying and the saving part – that was all great.  It was just…well…" she tapered off.

"What?" he asked.  "What is it?  Please tell me!"

Sarie Mue thought carefully.  She didn't want to lose her chance with Gohan by embarrassing him or upsetting him, but some things were more important. Like speaking out for all the Gohan fans who had to live daily with their dream guy prancing about like a nancy boy.

"The poses and the shouting look really stupid, okay?  For Dende's sake!  You can fly, you can fight, you can crow…er…well, not really.  But still, you're really cool.  You don't have to do all of that stupid posturing to impress people.  And what's with the doo-rag?  You're almost as bad as him," she said, pointing to a "Mr. Satan" billboard.

The billboard featured a repeating ten second clip of Hercule's victory dance.  Hercule turned a cartwheel, stuck his arms up in the air, jumped into several poses which might have supposed to have been martial arts stances, and finally made a McDonald's arch with his arms before sticking his hand out in a "V" for victory.

The Great Saiyaman's mouth hung open in shock.  Had he really sunk that low?

"I guess you're right," he said quietly.  "I never realized."  He gave her a look like a lost puppy.  "I have to go, now."

"No!  Wait!" she shouted, but it was too late.  He had flown off in a flash of green.  "Great," she pouted.  "Now what do I do?" 

"SARIE!" someone shouted from behind her.  She whipped around to see a crowd of school girls calling to her.  "You're going to be late for class!  Hurry!" one shouted.

She looked down to see that she was clad in the same modified sailor outfit as the rest of the girls.  Around her shoulder was a leather book satchel.  She reached up to feel that she wore the same cute blue beret as the other girls, too. 

"O..okay," Sarie said, hurrying to join the girls as they ran toward the school building, their skirts blowing artfully in the wind to almost, but not quite, show their unmentionables.

The gaggle of giggling girls made their way to Satan City Orange Star High School.  She tried to follow the other girls' lead, not quite knowing where to go.  As they filed into the classroom, she waited behind to see which seat was left open for her. 

It turned out that her seat was between two vaguely familiar faces.  She was to sit between Erasa and Sharpner. 

"Hey, Sarie," Erasa said.  "I heard you had an adventure this morning."

"What?" asked Sarie.

"Don't play dumb!" Sharpner said.  "That green guy saved you.  Everybody saw it."

"Oh!  Yeah, Goha…..ah…..The Great Saiyaman caught me when I fell…from the top of a very high building…where I was…bird-watching," she fabricated quickly. 

"So, did he talk to you?" asked Erasa.  "I bet his voice was really hot, wasn't it?  Did he ask you out?  Did you get any clue about who he really is?" 

Sharpner smirked, adding, "And did you finally tell him that his poses make him look like a wanker?" 

"Um…let's see," Sarie said.  "Yes, kind of, no, not really, and none of your business."

Having finally recognized her surroundings, Sarie realized something was missing.  "Where's Videl?" she asked. 

"Who?" Erasa looked at her strangely.  "I don't know of any Videl that goes here.  Do you, Sharpner?"

"Nope," he said.

.

"Where am I?!" Videl screamed, looking at the spooky floating starfield in front of her.

"Well," the Great Will said. "I couldn't very well have Sarie Mue fall in love with Gohan if you were around getting in the way, could I?  I had to remove you from that particular reality." 

Videl folded her arms, jutting out her pointy chin defiantly.  "When my father hears that I've been kidnapped, he will come and tear your very attractive feminine arms right off you body…starfield…thing," she declared.

"You silly girl," the Great Will laughed.  "Your father doesn't even remember that you exist.  In fact, he never even met your mother.  I made a few changes to your reality to keep…well…_you_ from happening."

.

"Oh!  Mizter Zatan!  What else shall Fredericco decorate for you today, eh?" the spindly interior decorator asked. 

"Is that all you ever think about?" asked Hercule.  "Work, work, work."  He sighed.  "Well, then, if you're so intent on decorating, why don't we go examine the bedroom?"

"Oh!  Mizter Zatan!"

.

Back in the classroom, the professor had arrived, a very attractive young woman with an ever-present smile.  She was teaching them algebra that day.

"Well, then," the professor asked.  "Let's see, then…  Who can show us how to do problem number 17?  Motosawa-kun?"

The class turned to see the student she had called on gazing out the window muttering to himself about something.  "Pantsu…" he whispered. 

"What about panties, Motosawa-kun?  Something you would like to share with the rest of us?" the professor asked. 

"WHAA?!" he suddenly shouted.  "NOT AGAIN!!!"

Erasa rolled her eyes.  "That Hideki – what an idiot," she said acidly.

"Yeah," agreed Sharpner.  "But his persocon is really cute." 

"What?" Sarie Mue asked.

"Never mind," they both answered.

Suddenly, the door to the class burst open.  Everyone turned in surprise to see Gohan looking very embarrassed.  He bowed deeply and began apologizing profusely to the professor. 

"I am very sorry that one of my wretched status has inconvenienced the class by interrupting your very important lecture, please forgive my insolent behavior," he said without breathing. 

The cheery professor smiled and gestured for him to sit down.  As he walked across the room Sarie noted that a white doo-rag trailing out of his back pocket and flashes of a green tunic sticking out of his shirt.  A red cape, sticking out of the top of his book satchel, dragged on the ground behind him.  But for some reason, no one else seemed to notice this.  Gohan finally managed to jump over or avoid all the legs stuck out to trip him to get to his seat.

"There's that stupid new guy, Gohan," Sharpner said.  "What a nerd." 

"I don't know," Erasa said.  "He's kind of cute, but he's certainly no Great Saiyaman." 

"That's for sure," Sharpner said.  "The Great Saiyaman may be a pompous wanker with stupid poses, but even he is a million times cooler than Gohan." 

"Really, though," Erasa said.  "There aren't two people on Earth more different than Gohan and the Great Saiyaman." 

"Yeah," Sharpner chimed in.  "They're like night and day ­- complete and total opposites." 

The professor smiled at the class.  "Now, then, since Son-kun has chosen to join us, we can begin our literature lesson.  We will discuss the concept of irony today." 

Sarie, for her part, just stared dreamily at the young Saiyan.  She didn't care what the rest of them thought, she knew who he really was.  And he would be hers – whatever it took.

After class, she followed Gohan at a distance, watching to see where he went. 

He went to the park, sat down on a bench and began to raffle through his satchel, moving boots, a cape, sunglasses, and gloves out of the way to find a book.  He finally found the one he was looking for and began to read. 

He was so engrossed in his book that he didn't notice her approach.  She decided to break the ice by seeing what he was reading.  She glanced at the cover.

"The Joy of Mah-Jong – a Guide for the Absolute and Complete Beginner," she read aloud. 

"WHAAAAA?!" Gohan shouted, trying to tuck the book quickly into his bag.  "Where did you come from?"  The book fell out of his hand and landed on the ground, still opened to a heavily-illustrated page.

"GUAAAA!!" he shouted, picking it up and finally managing to shove it in his bag beside his police radio scanner.

"Sorry if I startled you," she said. 

"Um…no…no…not at all," he said, laughing and blushing furiously with complete humiliation.

"Hey!" he said suddenly, "I remember you.  You're the girl I caught…er…that The Great Saiyaman saved this morning.  Right?"

"Yes," she said.  "I'm Sarie.  We're in class together." 

"That's right!  I knew I remembered you from somewhere this morning…er…this morning when I came to class.  Not before," he said smoothly.

"You remembered me from class when you came into class this morning?" she asked.

"Um…yep.  That's right," he said.  "Sometimes, I…umm…forget people from day to day…so I have to remind myself when I see them again…and…yeah…that's what I meant, not that I recognized you from anywhere else," said the clever master of disguise.

Sarie Mue sighed heavily.  "Gohan, it's okay.  I know your secret," she said. 

A look of horror came over his face. "No!" he protested. "Piccolo was just training me.  It was innocent!  It was just that one time.  I didn't even enjoy it.  I swear…" he stuttered.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Oh!" he said.  "What secret were you saying you knew before I said that thing that has absolutely nothing to do with anything?" 

"I know you're the Great Saiyaman," she said.  

 He stared at her blankly.  "Nooo…" he said.  "I'm not the Great Saiyaman!  He's waaaay cooler than me, y 'know?"

Sarie folded her arms and rolled her eyes until they almost stuck in the back of her head.

"And," Gohan continued.  "I'm not nearly that strong.  I'm really weak!  Go ahead!  Hit me!"

Deciding to humor him, Sarie gave a half-hearted punch to his left arm. 

"OWWWW!" Gohan screamed unconvincingly, falling to the ground.  "Why did you hit me so hard?  I can feel the broken bones rubbing against each other inside my arm!  Oh, the agony!  That's even worse than when Cell shattered my arm with that ki blast!  Aarggh…um…"

She just looked at him. 

"Not that I've ever fought Cell," said Gohan.  "Like I said, I'm really quite weak and nerdy and…"

"WILL YOU JUST STOP IT ALREADY?!!" Sarie shouted.  "It couldn't possibly be any more obvious that you are the Great Saiyaman.  If you had "Hello, ask me about being the Great Saiyaman" tattooed onto your head, it would still not be any more plain to anyone with a double-digit IQ that you are the Great Saiyaman.  You have a cape and a vest tucked away in your bag and under your clothes.  You have the same voice – you don't even disguise it.  You scream at people when they mispronounce his name.  You show up late every time he is rescuing someone on a school day.  You even start an earthquake when the teacher won't take that lame excuse of going to the bathroom anymore!  I know, absolutely, positively, without any scrap or modicum of doubt that you are the Great Saiyaman.  Get it?"

His face became very solemn, and he took a deep breath.  "Sarie," he said.

"Yes?" she replied.

"I have something to tell you," he answered, taking her hand gently in his.

"What is it?" she asked.

"You're right," he said.  "I am the Great Saiyaman." 

"Just a second," Sarie said, as she tried to unroll her eyes…  "Almost…"  She gave the back of her head a smack, causing her pupils to roll back down.  "There." 

"Now then," Sarie continued.  "Really?  Wow!  I knew it!"

Gohan stared at her, unconscious of her blatant sarcasm.  "You have to promise never to reveal my secret," he said.  "If anyone were to find out, they might go after my family."

Sarie snickered softly, thinking about some thug trying to "go after" Chi-Chi and Goten.

"Promise me," Gohan said intensely.

Sarie sighed.  "Alright.  I won't tell anyone and endanger your almost invincible family."

Gohan smiled, obviously relieved.  "Thank you…. What?  What did you say about my family?"

Sarie's mind raced.  "I said… uh… I said that they were… highly principled…  Yeah!  I said that your family was highly principled because… well… of course they would be!  I mean, raising a wonderful and smart nerd – I mean – hero like you and all."

Gohan puzzled over her strange behavior.  However, like all those in his "highly principled" family, he just shrugged it off and laughed nervously.

"So," Sarie began, realizing that this romance was going nowhere, "now that I know your secret, how 'bout we go on a date?"

Gohan stopped laughing, sweat rolling in enormous globs down his face.  "Date?  You mean… like engaging in social activities as a couple with the intent of future… uh… couplings?"

Sarie's smile faltered.  "Uh… yeah.  Something like that."

Gohan's weak smile popped back into place.  "Um… sure!  That would be wonderful.  In fact, we could go to the science museum!  They have an awesome exhibit on earthworms this week!" 

Sarie thought carefully.  She had the opportunity to date one of her DBZ hotties – maybe even the hottest, not counting the ones with purple hair.  But he was a dork.  Apparently the Great Will wasn't going to make this easy on her by giving Gohan…well…a personality.

"Stupid Great Will…" Sarie muttered.

"What was that?" Gohan asked.

She sighed heavily.  "I said, 'Sure – Great!  I will…go see worms with you."

Gohan positively beamed.  "This will be wonderful!"  He looked off into the distance.  But I think I hear a child crying because a kitten is stuck in a tree.  I have to suit up!"

"Right then," Sarie said.  "Bye." 

Gohan went through a series of tacky poses and gestures before running to a phone booth to change clothes.  Of course, the phone booth was transparent, and a shocked woman covered her daughter's eyes and walked hurriedly away as he was putting on his boots.

.

Meanwhile, above the clouds, a sinister-looking green figure watched with increasing interest.

"So," sneered the tiny green man, "Gohan thinks he deserves to be happy?  Ha!  We'll see about that won't we?  Mwhahahahaha!  Mwhahahaha!  Mwaha!  Ha!"

"Why are you laughing in such an evil fashion, Dende?" Mr. Popo asked, walking up behind the Earth's watcher. 

"Hmm?" Dende turned around.  "I don't know really.  I mean, it's not like Gohan has ever done anything to me.  I just suddenly felt the need to act completely out of character and inflict various tortures and punishments on him for no reason at all."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Mr. Popo asked.

"Well…not really," admitted Dende.  "But I can do it if I want.  I am god, you know." 

"I just can't understand why you'd want to hurt Gohan," Mr. Popo said sadly. 

"I do," a deep, gravelly voice said. 

Both Dende and Popo turned to see Piccolo with his back to them, his arms folded as he gazed off into the distance.

"Oh!" Popo said.  "Piccolo!  I didn't expect you here today."

"Yeah well, I had some spare time," Piccolo said.  "And I sensed that Dende might need some answers as to why he feels compelled to inflict myriad torments on Gohan."

"You know of this urge?" asked Dende.

"Of course.  Why do you think I volunteered to 'train' the twerp?" answered Piccolo.  "You see, there is a deep, dark, Namekian secret that I have to explain to you – a reason why all Nameks now and forever will innately despise and abuse Gohan.  This is something that your very DNA knows, but you may never consciously register.  Yet it will still affect your behavior toward him – now and forever. It's an inescapable reality – an unquestionable truth."

"What is it?" Dende asked imploringly.  "Why do I want to hurt Gohan?"

Piccolo turned, his powerful gaze meeting the wide-open eyes of the young god.

"He's an annoying little bastard," Piccolo said. 

Dende looked at him.  "That's it?"

"Yep," Piccolo said.  "That's it."

"Okay!" Dende chirped.  "As long as I have a reason, then I need to get back to it."

"Give 'em hell," Piccolo said, before disappearing in a flash.

.

"Sorry about that!" Gohan said for the billionth time.

"S'okay," Sarie said through gritted teeth.  This was becoming a nasty routine.

"I didn't realize that there would be a tornado tonight, or I would have suggested we stay indoors," Gohan said apologetically.

"No, no…This is just…great," Sarie said.  "You couldn't have known that there would have been a tornado, a swarm of killer bees, fire and brimstone falling from the sky, a surprise visit to the museum by the Olsen twins…" She paused, taking a deep breath.  "That a volcano would appear in the middle of Satan City, that a Russian satellite would fall into our table at dinner, that the sun, moon, sky and seas would become a third part blood, that the dead would rise from their graves, that rats of unusual size would attack us, that I would fall into quicksand in the city park, that we'd be attacked by people possessed by hyenas, that a funny guy in orange and purple would annoy us until you made him say his name backwards, that fanfiction.net would shut down for an extended period of time and then be so backed up with people desperate to read and post stories that it would be next to worthless for a while, anyway, that we'd be attacked by ninjas, that they would announce a sequel to _Starship Troopers_, or that flying monkeys would carry me away to a distant land, forcing you to quest for a mystical sword, kill a witch, and rescue me."

She stopped, resting her hands on her knees and gasping for breath.  "You couldn't have known any of that.  It could have happened to anyone during a two hour date!"

"Hey, look!" said oblivious Gohan, pointing.  "There's a new book store!  Let's go check it out!" 

Sarie grimaced.  "Sure," she said.  "What are the odds that something cataclysmic or catastrophic could happen to us in the bookstore?"

Gohan pushed open the door of the bookstore.  A belle tinkled merrily. 

"What the hell are you doing?" the bookstore owner shouted at her.  "Go find a bathroom!  Don't do that in the floor!"

The beautiful young girl gave a merry laugh and ran out the door.

Sarie gave a disgusted look as the owner sighed and went to look for a mop.

"I can't believe it," the owner said.  "Why would such a thing happen just before _he_ gets here for the signing?"

"Oh!" Gohan said cheerily.  "There's going to be a book signing?  Who is the author?"

"A Mr. I. M. God," answered the owner.  "I just got in ten thousand copies of his new book.  It's expected to be a big hit."

"Really?" Sarie asked, intrigued.  "What's it called?"

In answer, the owner pointed to a display case. 

Gohan gasped sharply.

The case featured a life-sized replica of the Great Saiyaman – midway through a stupid pose – and was stocked with copies of _The Great Saiayman: A Pompous Wanker's Secret Identity Revealed_ by one I. M. God.

"I…I don't believe it," Gohan whispered.

"Oh, believe it!" a strange, girlish voice interjected.  "I've finally destroyed you!"

Gohan and Sarie turned to see a green midget with antennae and sunglasses. 

"D…Dende?!" they both said incredulously. 

"Don't take that incredulous tone with me!" the mini-god said.  "You must've known that I would eventually find the way to crush you, Gohan," he said, sneering as he pronounced the name.

"No..." Gohan said.  "Not really.  In fact, I didn't even know you trying to 'crush' me.  I had no clue that you had anything against me.  It's never even been implied in any way.  It would almost seem like a ridiculous contrived fanfiction plot to pit _us _against each other.  We've always been friends.  I mean, thinking back, not one interaction between us has ever, in any tiny way or manner, even hinted at a belligerent relationship."

"That may well be," Dende conceded.  "I will admit that if someone were to write a story, for instance, portraying you and me as adversaries, then the casual observer would have reason to wonder what in the home for infinite losers was going through their heads, but you forget one important fact."

"And what is that?" asked Gohan, his eyes wide open with surprise.

"You are an annoying little bastard," Dende said.

"Oh," said Gohan, stunned.  "Really?" he asked, looking at Sarie.

Sarie shrugged and gave a grudging nod of assent.  "It's true enough," she said. 

Suddenly, a horde of sailor uniform-clad girls charged in to the bookstore and surrounded Dende, holding their dog-eared copies of the book for him to sign. 

And then…Gohan was recognized.

"It's him!" one girl shouted.  "It's Gohan!  It's the GREAT SAIYAMAN!!!" 

They converged on him like a pack of ravening wolves…or rabid weasels attacking.  Well, really, they were more wolf-pack like in the way that they converged, but they were still kind of reminiscent of rabid weasels…  It's hard to describe.  I mean, the way a wolf pack converges is really distinctive.  And although the way they did it was similar, they weren't dead on wolf pack.  I'd say that they were about 53 percent wolf pack convergence and 43 percent rabid weasel attack.  The remaining four percent is comprised of some lesser-known animal battle behaviors including less than one percent each of elephant trampling, bee swarming, shark killing frenzy, vulture picking, Madagascar hissing cockroach charging, dolphin mating, and yak spitting. 

Anyway, there was a bunch of girls crowding around him.  He screamed out in horror as their hands were all over him…grasping and clawing to touch even his clothing.

They were so eager to get to him in fact that they hardly noticed they'd trampled Sarie Mue to death. 

.

Hours later, after the National Guard and the Hercule elite force had been called in to remove the females from the store, Gohan knelt, gasping for breath even as he sobbed over the bruised, bloodied, beaten, beheaded, broken, battered body of Sarie Mue. 

"Why?" he asked, a whisper. 

"Why?" he repeated, a little louder.

"Why?!" he spoke aloud.

"Why?!!" he shouted.

"WWWWHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYY?!!!!" he screeched from the murky depths of his soul.  

"Why did you let this happen, God?" he asked.

"Because," Dende said matter-of-factly as he put on his sunglasses.  "You are an annoying little bastard, and she had the bad taste to date you."  He opened up the door with one hand, causing a bell to chime merrily.  "Well, I'll see you around, Gohan!" he said cheerily, and left.

Gohan finally composed himself enough to stand.  "What do I do now?" he asked.  "Where do I go from here?"

"The hardest thing in this world is to live in it," a whiny young girl said from the corner of the bookstore. 

He halfheartedly threw a book at her, knocking her unconscious.

"I don't know what to do with my life," he continued his interrupted soliloquy.  "I can't go to school anymore.  I can't continue to be the Great Saiyaman.  I can't live at home with my crazy witch of a mother.  My dad got blew up…  I'm alone in the world.  What do I do now?"

"How about you stop feeling sorry for yourself and act like a man," a deep, gravelly voice said from behind him. 

He turned to see Piccolo glaring at him with his arms folded. 

"Piccolo? What are you doing here?" Gohan asked him. 

"I heard your whining all the way from the desert wasteland I was training in," Piccolo said accusingly.

"Well, to be fair the thousand-mile-wide desert wasteland is just 10 feet away from the city," Gohan said.  "Isn't that why we go there every time we fight someone?"

"True enough, but you were still whining," Piccolo said. 

"Well, if you're so smart, then what's the answer?  What do I do now?" he asked.

"Well," Piccolo said, subtly suppressing a sadistic smile, "I could always train you some more…  You remember the training don't you?"

Gohan fell on his knees and began to cry.

.

"AND ONCE AGAIN THE DAY IS SAVED, THANKS TO… THE POWERPUFF GIRLS!"

The Great Will of the Macrocosm appeared over Townsville, glaring in the direction that she guessed the omniscient announcer would be.  "What are you doing here?  You're supposed to be finishing off the Sarie Mue chapter.  You know… summing it up and all."

"WELL, WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO SAY?  IT WAS TOO DEPRESSING AND DISTURBING AT THE END TO MAKE A JOKE OUT OF IT.  THE DAY WAS NOT SAVED.  IN FACT, IT BROUGHT A SUPERHERO TO RUIN.  BESIDES, I TOLD YOU THAT I USUALLY STICK TO COMMENTING ON POWERPUFF GIRL EPISODES.  AND I HAVE ENOUGH WORK TO HERE.  EVER SINCE THE MAYOR LEFT FOR SOME FRENCH-SOUNDING THING…"

The Great Will held up her hands for silence.  "Wait, what did you say about the Mayor?  Could that 'french-sounding thing' be Le Resistance?"

"THAT'S THE ONE," the announcer rejoined happily.

Under normal circumstances, when the Great Will found out that Le Resistance had recruited yet another character, she would be angry and worried about the growing status of the dangerous movement.  Under normal circumstances, she would be wise and perfectly justified.

Now, she just rubbed her hands together sinisterly.

.

Deep in the underground lab/fortress that Le Resistance had claimed as its headquarters, Wesley Crusher was showing _The Powerpuff Girls_ Mayor around the lab.

"And this is the surveillance/control center that we use for all of Le Resistance's major operations, as well as searching for new recruits," the underage, annoying genius lectured enthusiastically.  "I built this with Robin, so it's kind of a cross between the Enterprise computer and the computer in the Bat Cave."  Wesley grinned, expecting the appreciation that he never got from the crew of the Enterprise, as well as the fans of Star Trek.

He was delighted when the Mayor seemed to take an interest.  "Ooohh…" the short elder man exclaimed.  "So many shiny buttons!!"

Wesley flinched forward as the tiny elected official hopped onto the console.  "No, don't touch…"

He was too late.  The explosion could be heard from miles away.

.

The Great Will chuckled.  "Yes, I think that their new addition will make things very interesting indeed."

She glanced down at her list.  "Well, I'm feeling particularly evil again, so why not?"

**.**

**Chapter 10: Cell**

.

Thanks to all our reviewers:

**Chuquita**:  I've just seen so many people write about Frieza torturing Vegeta.  Heck, I've even done it.  I wanted to show the exact opposite.  Nice to get praise from a rather well-known DBZ comedy writer.

**Lil Shady**:  You got the thermal exhaust port reference, and the bathing in virgins' blood is actually a historical reference.  Can't remember what it was now, though.  Anyway, I'll get to reading your story.  I just have a sucky connection right now.  By the time I check my e-mail, I'm usually bumped off… and too disgusted to try again.  I'm praying that I can even update!  Anyway, I'll get to it soon as I can.

**Nice-day**:  Thanks for sticking with.  No, I wouldn't do anything to any baby kangaroos.  Now, koalas are another matter…

**Dark Wolf**:  I have given you a handsome plug in "The Soul."  I've dedicated a whole reviewer special to you, ya prat!  And have you read and reviewed?  No!  Anyway…  And, no, I haven't seen Puni Puni Poemi yet.  I saw a copy on sale when I didn't have money.  It was gone when I did.  I'm just now finishing off Excel Saga!  It's hard to buy anime when you're broke.  Anyway, love ya!


	10. Cell

**Disclaimer**: You know, if I did own Dragonball Z, I would buy all the ice cream in the world. However, I do not have a freezer big enough, and I'm actually lactose intolerant. So it's pretty good that I don't own DBZ.

**Author's Note**: Happy Thanksgiving! Bet you thought you'd never see us again. Well, I finally took some time with Howler to finish this up (we're married, if you didn't know), and it's finally done. Yay!

**Reviewer thanks**:

**Lil Shady**: Thanks as always. I don't have a problem with connection anymore because I have cable internet.

**Dark Wolf**: No Chobits now! Now you'll be singing wrong lyrics to Eminem songs all the time.

**Weebee**: We've already had enough Chaotzu in the Tien chapter, or I'd be all for it. Don't worry. Sarie's going to get pretty desperate.

**Si-senor**: Thanks!

**Twinnie**: Don't wish you were Sarie. It might come true…

**SuperSanne**: 17 was one of my favs as well.

* * *

**Prologue: **

"It's really great that you could spare the time," The Great Will said in a rare show of polite deference to her host-of-the-day.

"IT'S REALLY NO TROUBLE…OR IS IT?" the voice said ominously.

The Great Will laughed lightly. "Oh, you!" she said teasingly. "To think, I have THE Scary Movie Voice Announcer Guy to introduce this story. Oh, what should I call you, by the way?"

"WELL," he began, causing a wave of tension to spread across the room, "MOST PEOPLE SIMPLY CALL ME..." the Great Will floated to the edge of her seat. "MR. VOICE GUY!"

Violins shrieked shrilly in the background.

The Great Will clapped her lily-white hands. "How do you do that?" she asked in wonder. "I mean…mood music pops up when you give your name? I'm the Great Will of the Macrocosm and even I don't get mood music! That's awesome."

"I GUESS IT'S JUST A GIFT," he said. "OR IS IT A CURSE!"

Again the Great Will clapped. "If I had a spine, that would have sent shivers down it," she said. "Well, I won't keep you any longer. You probably should go ahead and announce the chapter."

"BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!" he asked chillingly.

"Yes! Exactly. Go right ahead," she urged.

A black field appeared.

"HE CAME FROM THE FUTURE," Mr. Voice Guy began, causing white words to pop up on the screen as he spoke them.

The screen flashed a blurred image of a yellow spaceship blasting through the sky.

"HE WAS UNLIKE ANYTHING THE WORLD HAD EVER SEEN," Mr. Voice Guy said.

A flash of a green larvae appeared, highlighted by a shrieking noise.

"HIS GOAL IS TO KILL…"

A flash of a human being sucked into a giant bug's tail.

"AND EACH LIFE HE CLAIMS…"

A flash of a green muscles rippling.

"MAKES HIM STRONGER!"

A flash of a green duck-bug-man roaring with power.

Music begins pounding with orchestrated voices singing Holst's Mars theme as rumbling noises and random shots of terrified people being slaughtered coalesce into one horrific montage of terror.

"HE IS…"

The scene ends with a violin shriek as the camera zooms in closer until only one of Perfect Cell's eyes fills the field, which promptly cuts to black again.

"THE PERFECT KILLER."

The word "CELL" appears on the screen, filling it completely for a second before giving way to a list of actors, directors, producers, pop musicians and the ever-popular "This film is not yet rated."

"Yes!" the Great Will shouted. "I love it! I want to buy a ticket now! You are the best!"

"YES I AM," agreed Mr. Voice Guy. "OR…AM I?"

The Great Will, as much as she admired Mr. Voice Guy, was finally beginning to tire of the constant sense of impending doom that seemed to hover about him… especially when it just didn't make any sense. And so, with a wave of her hand, she sent Mr. Voice Guy to where she'd found him…trying out to narrate a diaper commercial.

* * *

"IT'S THE MOST ABSORBING DIAPER… THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN!" Mr. Voice Guy bellowed.

Women fainted, grown men curled up into the fetal position, and all the babies on the commercial set began screaming in fear of the new diapers. Needless to say, Mr. Voice Guy did not get the job.

"DAMN."

* * *

**Chapter 10: Cell**

Needless to say, Sarie was tired of dying.

"I'm really tired of dying," she commented to a passing tumbleweed, the tenth she'd seen in the past five minutes.

"And I'm really tired of barren wastelands," she said a bit more heatedly to the scorching sun. For old times sake, she tossed it a crude gesture.

"And I really… REALLY… hate…," she took a breath before shouting, "THIS SCHOOLGIRL OUTFIT!"

She glared impotently at the plaid woolen skirt and too-tight blouse. At least the last time she was transported into a barren wasteland, she had sensible clothing. This time, the Great Will hadn't even bothered to change her outfit.

"She must really hate me now," Sarie sighed.

Even though the Great Will obviously despised her now, the god-like thing was taking revenge on her instead of just leaving her alone. Sarie began to wistfully think of her pink bedroom with its shoeboxes of souvenirs and lists of men who had taken restraining orders out on her. She could deal with a few charges of stalking and some jail time better than this. A least there she knew she'd dress practically.

But there was nothing for it. Her time in this horrible love-less limbo had taught her that a guy wasn't just going to jump in front of her and shriek "boo." She was going to have to find him. Not that she was particularly interested in a guy right now. It was just something to do.

"BOO!"

Sarie whirled around and ran, not even looking at her attacker. She was way to scared. The world spun around her as she ran. Her feet pounded on the sand as she learned that sand wasn't the easiest thing to run on.

_Gee…_ She thought sarcastically, _this would be the perfect time for me to fall and twist my…_

A sudden twist of irony in her ankle and down she went in perfect horror movie timing.

"Thought you could run away from me, didn't you? Pathetic human, you cannot run from fate."

Sarie stared at the ground in confusion. For such sinister intent, her attacker sure did have a heroic voice.

"I am about to kill you, human," the incredibly heroic voice went on. "And don't bother trying to figure out why. There really is no reason." A mocking laugh. "You should really just consider it an honor to have your weak little shell of a body disintegrated by such a perfect being as myself."

"WAIT!"

Sarie broke out of her stupor. Perfect? That struck a chord within her. She had been waiting for the perfect guy, and if he looked anything like his voice, then this was definitely her guy.

Slowly turning over, she saw a hulking green figure, a ball of energy bouncing across his outstretched fingers as he gazed at her with cold, black eyes.

"CELL!" she shrieked.

"Oh?" the ball of energy stopped bouncing. "You've heard of me? News of my impending reign of terror and destruction has finally pierced the thick skulls of your puny species? I hope you are properly terrified. It's so much more fun for me to kill you, then."

"No!" she screamed. "I've read so many stories about you! I've wanted to get my arms around you since I read my first fanfic."

"Fanfic?" Momentary confusion flashed across Cell's features.

"Er… Newspaper. Yeah!" She stood up now, daring to inch toward him.

He held his hand out, the ball of energy growing in intensity. "I'm bored with this. Prepare to be sent to the next dimension!" he bellowed, his mouth stretching disproportionately to his face.

Sarie, having long since lost her fear of death, actually rolled her eyes. _What a stupid phrase_, she thought. _It must be the Frieza in him. Or possibly the Vegeta DNA._

Facing the glowing ball of death, an idea struck Sarie Mue. _No one has read more Cell romance fics than me. And if I know Cell, all I have to do is turn up the heat a little and seduce him into becoming a good guy! Not only will I have the most powerful fighter in the world at my beck and call, I'll have saved the world. That'll show that stupid Gohan – letting me get trampled. The only downside is he won't kill Goku, but them's the breaks._

"But Cell," she purred, sauntering seductively toward him. "If you're gonna make a girl explode, you should at least buy her dinner first."

Cell paused, the energy ball actually stopping mid-pulse as she came with reach of him.

"I mean," she continued, "there's certainly nothing I could do to stop you from killing me if you wanted to." One hand reached out, a finger idly tracing circles around his thick outer shell as her other small hand gently wrapped around his outstretched arm.

"You're so powerful, so strong, so…" she took a deep breath, taking every advantage of her too-tight schoolgirl blouse, "so _perfect_." She blushed ever-so-slightly for effect.

Drops of sweat began to appear across Cell's forehead, moistening his pointy green protrusions. The yellow ball of ki dancing at the end of his outstretched arm turned pink as she moved past it, placing her body nearly against his.

Encouraged, she continued. "And I'm just a weak, helpless girl." She leaned in, laying her head across his chest "With no one to protect me from _anything_ you want to do to me."

Behind her, a mountain collapsed as Cell lost control of his ball… of energy. It shot across the dessert, burrowing deep into the mountain before exploding in a terrific blast. Even though his hand was behind her when it shot, the heat from the release tore her too-tight blouse at the shoulder, leaving the fabric dropping dangerously low.

She took a step back. "So how about it? I'm yours for the killing. If that's what you _really_ want to do…"

Cell's arm dropped slowly back to his side. "I may, er, have a use for you. Perhaps I'll use you to learn more about this pathetic planet before I destroy it."

She sighed deeply, nearly finishing off her already damaged shirt. "If that's what you want." She gazed at him. "I'm _yours_ to command."

* * *

_Of all the things we could have done, he wanted to go out to dinner,_ she thought. _Of all the cities in the world, he picked Satan City. Of all the restaurants we could have gone to, he picks the same overpriced French joint – Le Fartressance. The green goon demands they bring us two of the most expensive dish on the menu and what do they bring?_

"Revolting," Cell said, his mouth full. "Roast caribou with raspberry sauce. The corn stuffing and spinach leaves are disgusting as well. Perhaps my sense of taste is so far superior to humans that you cannot tell what you're eating. Do you enjoy this?"

Sarie Mue was looking as green as Cell, having attempted to force down at least a respectable amount of the putrid gourmet dish. "No," she said, swallowing back her own bile. "I don't."

"Very well." He stood up, vaporizing the table with a casual beam of energy. "We're leaving," he said to the maitre'D. "I really should destroy this entire establishment, but I'm supposed to be on my best behavior while I'm learning about this planet. Is that your Kia outside?"

"Oui, monsieur, but I do not understand why zat is important…"

Cell and Sarie left through the same hole in the wall Cell had blasted for them to enter. (His wings really got in the way of doors.) Cell shot a ki blast over his shoulder, setting the Kia on fire.

"Monsieur, mademoiselle!" screamed the panicked Frenchman. "Sacre bleu! My car! Why would you do zis? Zis is not Paris!"

"Next time, warn us about the caribou!" Sarie screamed.

* * *

"Down in front, you jerk!" someone screamed from the back of the theater. "What the hell kind of hat are you wearing? That's the stupidest looking thing I've ever seen!"

Cell and Sarie, for their part, were thoroughly engrossed in the film.

Cell was laughing hysterically. Sarie was feeling almost as nauseous as she had during dinner.

"This is wonderful!" Cell said aloud, not caring if he bothered other people in the theater. "The killer clown is torturing the people with the hope of escape and forcing them to maim and kill themselves!"

"Yeah," said Sarie, somewhat less enthusiastically. "That's um… great."

After one particular gruesome involving a hacksaw, a gun attached to a string, a keyhole, a Kenny G album, a hamster, cooking oil and a turkey baster, Cell actually took out a notepad and began jotting down notes.

"That's it!" Sarie said. She took Cell by the hand and led him out of the theater, explaining to the manager that the film was too violent. He was kind enough to give her free passes to any other film showing.

This time, Cell chose "Get Rich or Die Tryin'." The manager lifted an eyebrow, but wisely kept his mouth shut as he handed them the passes.

The manager had learned early on in the movie business that when a seven-foot tall bug man wants to see a movie, one lets the seven-foot tall bug man go see the movie. He'd tried to stop one only once. He looked down at the stump where his right hand used to be. One mouthful of digestive acid spit was enough for any theater manager. Curse that Jeff Goldbloom!

* * *

"I've decided!" Cell bellowed (did he ever not bellow?) as they left the theater. "I now have a dream."

"And what is your dream?" Sarie asked cautiously, still reeling from the gratuitous violence, weak plotlines and terrible acting.

"To have a dream!" Cell answered. "I shall become a rapper!"

"A rapper?" Sarie asked.

"No. Not _a _rapper. The most powerful rapper in the universe!"

"Of course," she mumbled.

"Take me now to a club where I can spin my mad rhymes, yo!" he commanded.

Sarie knew that if she took him to such a place, Cell would be attacked and lots of honest, hardworking thugs would get ki blasted. But she couldn't refuse. So what to do?

"I know just the place!" she said. "It's called "The Singing Funbox."

* * *

Typically, the Funbox was a nice sort of place for overworked Japanese businessmen to go after work. They'd knock back a few drinks, belt out a few tunes and return home relaxed and somewhat refreshed. Tonight it was not quite as relaxing.

The seven-foot tall bug creature had an amazing powerful voice. It was not a good voice, but it was powerful.

"You MUST lose yourself in the music, the moment, and own… um.. One shot! Do not blow!" Cell shouted, oblivious to the beat blasting from the speakers.

No one dared make a sound for fear of being charred to a husk like the first and only overworked businessman to boo at Cell. That had been before he'd even begun to sing when he took to the stage in a hooded sweatshirt, his headprongs making the hood look like the pope's hat. The man had died for good fashion sense.

"Mom's spaghetti is the last chance! Opportunity vomit! I'm the REAL SLIM SHADY!"

Cell screamed.

The beat continued. Cell, having run out of lyrics, blew up the sound system. He turned back to the crowd.

For a second there was only stunned silence. Then the now sobered-up businessmen realized he was finished singing and began applauding as if their lives depended on it. Which, of course, their lives did.

Cell, pleased with himself, grabbed Sarie and flew away into the night.

"Never have I felt so alive!" Cell screamed. "Except for when I absorbed the androids, but that doesn't count."

Sarie, for her part, didn't know whether she was still up for the big seduction or not. Cell was powerful, and he had a sexy voice – when speaking, anyway. But he was still a giant bug and he still liked to blow things up. And he looked absolutely ridiculous in that sweatshirt.

They landed in the desert where they'd met. And Cell turned to her.

"You have shown me so much in just this one day! I could not possibly destroy your planet now. There is so much to do here – so much to see!"

"Really, Cell? You're not just joking with me?"

"Of course not! And you must be my mate!"

So they had finally come to it. "Your mate?" Sarie asked, as frightened as she was excited. "You mean we're going to… Play Mah-Jong?"

Cell turned away and lifted his arms. Giant chunks of rock ripped up from beneath the desert floor, flying through the air and eventually forming themselves into a fair approximation of a house.

"This shall be our castle! You will be my queen!"

Sarie fell into his arms. "Oh Cell! I can't believe I've finally found the one! I've searched worlds to find the one man I could spend my life with. One man that would give me everything I want and need. One man I could play Mah-Jong with until my eyes crossed! You've made me so happy."

They entered the house. Sarie found it somewhat Spartan, but there was furniture of a sort. It was just made of sub-desert stone. Whatever. She'd have years to decorate it to her liking.

He led her through a passageway into a circular chamber. A sticky, waxen substance covered the walls, forming a series of indented niches. "And this shall be our mating chamber!"

"What's that?" asked Sarie Mue.

Cell picked her up and with a casual toss she flew through the air into one of the niches. The goo seemed to hold her in place like flypaper.

"Cell," she squeaked nervously. "I'm not sure how you're used to playing Mah-Jong. But this isn't the kind of game I'm used to."

"Then you'd better get used to it!" Cell growled. The process has begun. In order to produce a full hive, we'll need to mate at least every fifteen minutes for the next 12 hours."

"A full hive?" she shrieked.

"Of course," Cell said, his tail extending from his hind quarters. "I inject eggs into your abdomen with my ovipositor, and then they'll gestate for several weeks. I'll bring you food, of course, so your warmth will protect them until they are ready to rip their way out. Isn't that how humans go about this?"

There was no answer, of course, as Sarie had passed out at "ovipositor."

"My lovely queen," he smiled, his tail extending toward her.

* * *

The Great Will of the Macrocosm had at times been accused of being a sadist. But even she had her limits.

"Why do I keep fixing her up with villains in the first place! It never turns out well… oh, yeah… it's because I'm tired of her and I want revenge."

A figure whimpered in the corner.

"Oh, shut up," the Great Will snapped at the whimpering figure.

"But… what are you going to do to me?" the unattractive, fat, white-and-black woman whined. "Isn't anyone going to save me!"

The Great Will sighed. "No, no one is going to _save_ you. At least, no one you know. That's why you make perfect bait. You're underappreciated."

"AURGH! This is just great! First I date Xandir because he's a flaming homo, and I haven't eaten in 30 minutes! I'm malnourished! And no one understands me! I hate myself! If my hands weren't tied, I'd cut myself!… Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say that out loud?"

The Great Will sighed loudly. "Yes, Toot, just like you say everything else out loud that comes into your overfed head. You know, I don't know why I kidnapped you. I don't think Chichi even wants you."

"And, you know, you're right."

The Great Will turned with a gasp. If she hadn't been so distracted with Sarie and the least popular character of Drawn Together, she, of course, would have sense the approach of her arch-nemesis. Even an all-powerful being can be taken by surprise.

Chichi grinned, leveling a bazooka straight at the Great Will. Of course, no one really knew what would happen if Chichi fired the bazooka. Would she kill the Great Will? Would the projectile merely go through the Great Will, blowing up Toot much to the joy of everyone? Would the projectile merely float in the oblivion encompassed in the Macrocosm? Would it collapse dimension, cross timelines, kill squirrels with molding, and simply wreak havoc on all existence?

"You wouldn't dare," the Great Will uttered gutturally. "You don't know what would happen."

Chichi laughed cruelly. "And you think I have that much to live for? You took everything away from me. My husband. My house. My life. My dignity… Everything."

The Great Will rolled her… stars. "I took you away from a small house hundreds of miles away from everything. I took you away from the lonely life of cleaning house and worrying if everyone you love has gotten killed. I took you away from a husband who is a terrible Mah-Jong player. I made you what you are today!"

"You gave me to William Shatner as a love slave! I'm the one who ran away! I made myself what I am today!"

The Great Will glowered at Chichi's logic. Yes, the Great Will hated Chichi beyond reason and scope. She hated Chichi more than a DBZ yaoi fan, which is saying a lot.

However, the woman was pointing a bazooka at her, so she had to watch her words carefully.

Plus, something she'd said earlier was nagging at the Great Will.

"What did you mean earlier? About not wanting…" The Great Will suddenly noticed that the black-and-white, annoying Drawn Together character had effectively eaten through her bonds (a mean feat, since she'd been shackled with metal). The woman had also eaten through a wall, some insulation, sanitation piping, and a fuse box to get outside.

"What, do you mean her?" Chichi sniffed disdainfully. "She's worthless. Absolutely nothing to contribute to my organization."

The Great Will laughed suddenly, sharply. "You hypocrite. What, now you're discriminated? That's what you've been fighting against. You see, I understand your cause. I just disagree with your methods. But now… you're going against your own cause. You… you just love the power."

Chichi was almost growling with anger. "That's where you're wrong, Willy. My cause has always been about underrated, abused characters. People who have a lot to contribute, but are not allowed their dues." Chichi smirked Vegeta-like. "I care nothing about abused characters who deserve the abuse."

Suddenly, the Great Will heard a roar outside. Rushing to the window, she saw Toot join the ranks. And they were ranks. In fact, an entire legion of abused (but useful) characters, all brandishing their preferred weapons. Krillen was in the forefront, two destructo discs in hand. Wile E. Coyote was setting up a complicated system of pulleys and explosives, employing birdseed and ACME bat costumes at various intervals. Neville Longbottom was still with the crew, even with the newfound respect he'd been given in the fourth Harry Potter movie, and he was probably loaded with all the spells he'd learned in the fifth book. Jonathan Levenson was preparing some spell including smelly herbs and a Portuguese limerick. And Jar Jar Binks… had one of those weird bomb things from the first movie. People were backing away from him, expecting him to drop the bomb on his foot at any moment.

"You've come to attack me…" the Great Will whispered.

Chichi joined her at the window. "Because you oppose us. We will eventually wage war against all the heroes… and the movie directors, authors, animators, and networks that make our lives miserable. But first… you have to die."

The Great Will growled. "Mistake one."

With one of her deceptively-weak-looking, slender white arms, the Great Will pushed Chichi out of the window. It was quite a fall, one that only Hercule or Wile E. Coyote could mysteriously survive. Chichi's followers, their defenses forgotten, ran to catch her.

"I should have done this a long time ago," the Great Will screamed, almost mad with fury.

Suddenly, the benevolent starfield turned purple, and then red. Tendrils of black power rolled off the god-like being out of the window. The ground under the army turned into a vortex. Various characters held up signs that said things like "yipes." The characters that could fly were pulled under by tentacles. The final person, Chichi, screamed like the banshee she was as she was pulled down into the gloom.

The ground closed up, and not a blade of grass was damaged.

The Great Will dusted her hands, now in a much calmer temperament. "As I said, I should have done that a long time ago. With some of their talents, it won't take them long to break free of that dimension. But it does afford me time for a plan of attack."

The Great Will paused, remembering that Sarie was still floating around in her. She remembered Chichi's smirk.

"Oh, why not? Sarie deserves some good Mah-Jong."

**Chapter 11: Vegeta **


	11. Vegeta

**Disclaimer**: I don't own. I just rent.

**Author's notes**: I bet y'all thought I was dead. Nope! Just entirely too busy. But this (and my other) fanfiction has been pulling in the back of my mind. I hate not finishing things. Therefore, the next chapter will be the last chapter. I plan to have it out by the end of this summer.

I want to thank everyone for his/her support throughout this whole venture. I started with several different ideas of how I wanted this fanfiction to go, and, while it certainly isn't as long as I thought it would be (I was CRAZY), it is better than I thought it would be. Over the past few years, I and my husband have been writing it little by little, combining both of our styles into some weird hybrid. Makes me wonder what our kid will turn out like. Anyway, for those who've been with us from the beginning, I thank you. For those who are just tuning in, enjoy.

So without further ado, I give you:

**Prologue**:

The 11-year-old boy stared blankly at the TV screen as he played his new video game. His mother had bought it for him after he came down with strep throat. He was stuck at home with nothing to do except play Grand Theft Auto 7: Vatican City.

The boy smirked as he strangled the pontiff with garrote wire and stole the Pope-mobile, running over a nun for bonus points.

The door to his room swung open. "Billy? How are you feeling?" his mother asked sympathetically. "Are you still puking? Is your stool solid?" Billy's mother was a nurse, so she tended to speak too graphically about illnesses.

"No, Mom. I'm not puking and everything's normal. I think I can go back to school soon."

"We'll see," she said, smiling. Billy's mother was a bit overprotective. Billy's father had gone missing years ago, and Billy was really all she had left of him.

"I've got a surprise for you," she said.

"What is it?" he asked, sitting up.

His answer came as a stooped figure shoved his mother out of the doorframe and barged its way into the room.

"Move it, you fat cow!" the figure grumbled. "I should've taken your mother's advice and let her leave you in that dumpster. Always in the way…"

"Grandpa!" the boy shouted happily. Things were always more interesting when Grandpa came to visit—especially if he'd been in the sauce, which… The boy sniffed the air. Oh, yeah. This was going to be an interesting visit.

"How's the sick little sack of pig farts?" Grandpa asked gruffly. "What's wrong with you? Why are you lying about in bed all day like some retired syphilitic French whore? When I was your age, I was already working in the coal mines—making a living for myself." Grandpa coughed, hocking a gob of black liquid onto the wall.

"Oh Grandpa!" the boy laughed. "I just have a little cough, but Mom's making me stay home from school."

"Well, your mother's an idiot," Grandpa said. "If she weren't such an idiot, she wouldn't have gotten gang-banged by the entire football team her junior year of high school and squirted out a worthless blob of crying, pooping goo like you!"

The mother laughed. "Oh Dad! You and your stories—always exaggerating. You know good and well it wasn't the whole football team. It was only seven members of the chess club." Her eyes glazed over. "But for a day. I was their Queen." She looked at Billy. "And your father—the greatest chess player of them all, was my King."

"Whatever," Grandpa barked. "Get out of here, you old chess whore. I want to talk to the worthless blob of goo."

Mother smiled. "I think I'll leave you two pals alone," she said, easing out the door. Grandpa sat down in a chair by the bed, farting loudly as he did so. He reached for the ever-present flask in his inside jacket pocket.

"I brought you a very special present," Grandpa said, handing the boy a package wrapped in brown paper.

"What is it?" Billy asked.

"Open it and find out," urged Grandpa.

The boy worked his way through the brown paper to see a photo of a large-breasted woman fondling a Mah-Jong board.

"Gee, thanks, Grandpa," the boy said weakly. "Another copy of Mah-Jong My Jugs Monthly." The boy opened a drawer in his bedside table and placed it with the growing collection that Grandpa had been providing him since he was four.

Grandpa smiled proudly. "I bet that'll put hair on your chest. And make your penis erect, too!"

Grandpa reached into his jacket and removed another package, this one properly gift-wrapped. "But this is an even more special—specialer?—more special present."

The boy unwrapped it with a grin.

"A book?" the boy said.

"Yes, that's right you ungrateful little kangaroo turd. In my day, video games were called book. And Sears Roebuck catalogues were called toilet paper. What? They don't teach you to READ at that fancy SCHOOL you go to instead of the coal mine?"

"Sure, Grandpa. We read lots of things. Like, we just read this one book by John Knowles. These two guys are like really, really uncomfortably close friends and they mention each others butts a lot, and I think…"

"I don't care what kind of crap you read at your fancy school. I've brought you a REAL book to read. It's a very special book. My grandfather used to hit my father in the head with it when he was sick. My father used it to prop up a short leg on the dining room table. I beat your father to death with it, and now I'm going to read it to you."

"That sounds great, Grand… Wait, what did you say about my dad?"

"Never mind all that," Grandpa said hurriedly, taking the book with the mysterious dried brown stain on the cover out of Billy's hands. "You're sick, and I'm gonna read you this book. You got a problem with that?"

"No!" Billy said. "What's it about, anyway? Has it got any sports in it?"

"Are you kidding?" Grandpa asked. "It's got midget fights, traditional Irish hurling, ancient Greek wrestling—the real kind, where they only get to wear a leather thong and get rubbed down with olive oil—competitive eating, igloos, a river of taco sauce, rabid squirrels…"

"Really?" Billy asked excitedly.

"No," Grandpa said. "This is actually a parody fanfic about a badass Saiyan and an annoying Mary Sue character with a ridiculously long lead-in. So shut up."

"Okay," Billy grumbled.

Grandpa sat back in his chair and thumbed to the title page.

"Sarie Mue 11. By S. Morgenstern (with the help of Unromantic Poetess and Howler Wolfe), chapter one:

**Chapter 11: Vegeta**

Sarie Mue screamed as a baby Cell ripped its way out of her belly… Clawing, chirping, screeching with bloodlust and then…

It was over.

She opened her eyes to find herself lying in her comfortable pink bed in her overly pink room. It had all been a dream. Trunks, Goku, Frieza, Cell… All dreams.

"Oh well," she sighed. Sure, some of the dreams had been terrible, but she had still hoped to find her one perfect DBZ hunk.

She crawled out of bed and walked over to the mirror. She stretched with a powerful yawn and opened her eyes to see…

She had blue hair. And breasts that defied gravity.

"Wha…?" she began, when suddenly the roof shattered above her head, sending debris toppling all around her. She looked up just in time to see a flash of red glowing eyes and a gigantic furry foot coming down on her. She screamed, waiting to be crushed to death, and then…

It was over.

She awoke this time not in her comfortable pink bed in her overly pink room, but crammed into a tiny leather chair. She was surrounded on all sides by dull gray metal and blinking diodes. She looked forward through a tiny round window to see a large blue ball rushing toward her.

She blinked, trying to regain her composure. She tried to sit up and banged her head on the ceiling. Slowly, it dawned on her that she was in a Saiyan space pod.

"Oh great!" she said aloud. "I've probably been kidnapped by Frieza again or maybe that Great $&# of the Macrocosm is going to let Raditz blow me up or something."

But then again… She was alone. There was no captor to be seen. There was just her and her ship.

_Her ship?_

But that would make her a… She reached behind her, careful not to bang her elbows on any dials or gauges, and carefully worked her hand under her to feel… her tail. (No, not THAT way you sicko—a real brown furry TAIL tail. She wasn't just feeling her tail. Pervert.)

She was no longer merely Sarie Mue: Rabid Fangirl on the Rampage. She was Sarie Mue: The Saiyan!

The ship continued its breakneck rush toward what she assumed must be Earth. She quickly realized she had no idea how to fly the tiny ball of metal. Had the Great Will put her in this scenario merely to have her crash into the Earth in a fiery ball of death? It wouldn't be the first time.

But no. The ship seemed to be flying itself. It zoomed straight through the atmosphere to land in a Kansas cornfield with a thundering _CRASH._

Jonathan and Martha Kent were having a breakfast of corn flakes, corn muffins, and corn-on-the-cob when they heard a thundering _CRASH. _

"What was that?!" Jonathan yelled, knocking over his glass of corn whiskey.

"I don't know, Jonathan," Martha said nervously. "Perhaps you'd better go have a look?"

Jonathan was already up, throwing on his jacket and grabbing his shotgun. "I hope it's not another one of those &$ space aliens," he said. "We had to beat that last baby one to death with a big green rock."

"I know!" she said, nodding. "It kept trying to fly away, but you showed it who was boss. Serves the little thing right for leaving a big hole in our corn field."

"Man's gotta protect his corn," Jonathan said as he walked out the door. "It's all about corn, justice, and the American way."

Jonathan saw that his corn field had indeed suffered from this latest extraterrestrial invader. A swath of stalks had been crushed and burned in what looked like a skid path, leading to a giant crater near the barn. He picked up a big green rock—just in case—and made his way to the smoking pit. Looking down he saw a metallic shell crack open to reveal…

A knockout.

She was wearing a skintight blue jumpsuit that did little to conceal and much to emphasize her indescribably perfect physique. She had the proportions of a swimsuit model and the muscle tone of a gymnast. Her eyes were piercingly dark—almost solid black, as she gazed at him through her tussled, wild hair. Her hair was—amazingly, considering the rest of her—her most striking feature. It jutted out in bizarre angles, as though she'd been in an explosion at a mousse factory. It was such a deep black as to have almost blue highlights. It almost made her look like an 80's rocker. The look was still in style, however, as Kansas, typically a few decades behind the rest of the country, had just hit circa 1983.

"What are you?" Jonathan asked, looking into those sharp, onyx eyes.

She stood up, brushing the red Kansas dust off her blue jumpsuit. As she stood, he noticed that she seemed to be wearing a furry belt that hung behind her.

"Who am I?" she repeated, her voice darkly sensual. "I am a woman on a mission. I am…" She struck a pose, jutting her breasts forward and lifting one hand in a fist above her head. "SARIE MUE! SAIYAN WARRIOR ELITE! And I intend to find me a man."

Jonathan's eyes went wide, like a deer caught in headlights. He'd seen that movie—the one where the beautiful alien chick came to Earth looking to mate and create a new hybrid ultra-powerful species that would take over the planet. He knew how these things worked. And so it was with only the slightest tinge of regret that he lifted the shotgun and aimed it at her perfect breasts. "Now look here, space sister. I'm just a good old boy. Never meanin' no harm. And you're not gonna use my sperm to take over the world!"

He pulled the trigger, peppering her with buckshot, which bounced off her ultra-elastic breasts and ricocheted back at and through Jonathan, who fell dead with a stupidly surprised expression.

She stumbled back, grabbing her chest. "Ow!" she screamed. "You shot me in the &# tits! Do you know how much that hurts?!"

Jonathan, being a man, probably didn't know what it felt like to be shot in the &# tits. And for that matter, he was dead, so he wasn't likely to offer any insights into the subject anyway.

Realizing this, she shrugged and made her plans. "Well, if I'm a hot Saiyan chick, I guess I have to find a hot Saiyan guy. And since it's sure as hell not gonna be Trunks or Gohan or," she shivered, "Goku, I guess there's really only one option."

She put her arms forward and leapt into the air. And fell down onto her face into the red Kansas dirt.

"How do I fly, anyway?" she wondered.

She thought back. She remembered watching the episode where Gohan had taught Videl how to fly. She recalled the first thing he had said to do was touch her center…er…life energy. She blushed. That had been an exciting episode.

She focused her energy and felt a rush of power. A faint flowing field surrounded her. She could feel the power rushing through her – coursing through her face, her chest, her arms, her toes, her… Everywhere. She was flushing furiously now. She hadn't expected powering up to feel so… exciting. But there'd be time for that later. She gathered the energy around her and felt herself rising up. With a blush and a muffled moan, she blasted off toward West City.

"YOU BIG STUPID JERK!" Bulma screamed. "I spent three weeks getting the gravity room back in shape. THREE WEEKS. I told you to take it easy—not to put the gravity over 300Gs until I knew it was working right. And what do you do? You crank it up to 700 in the first ten minutes!"

Bulma paused to take a breath, surveying the heap of rubble that had once been a state-of-the-art high-gravity simulation chamber. "You blast ALL of the training droids to pieces, and then, as if that weren't enough, you fly out, screaming like a banshee, and blow up the house! What the # is WRONG with you?"

Vegeta merely looked away. "I got carried away."

"CARRIED AWAY?" she screamed. "Carried away was when you blasted the head off of Trunks' Superman doll."

"It wasn't my fault!" Vegeta interrupted. "He had a smug look about him. He reminded me of Kakarott."

"And what's with that?" Bulma asked. "You're always training, always saying you have to get stronger. You have to beat Kakarott. Kakarott this, Kakarott that. If you're so freakin' obsessed with Goku, why didn't you just marry HIM?!"

"Because," Vegeta said. "This isn't that type of fanfiction."

Bulma sighed. "True enough. If this were that kind of story, I would have died in a car crash already, and there'd be some lame explanation about Saiyan telepathic bonds and…"

"ENOUGH WOMAN!" shouted Vegeta. "I'm sick of your nagging. So I blew up the house… again. Big deal! You carry around spare houses in those darn capsules of yours, anyway. You knew I was a warrior when you married me. You knew I had to train. So stop whining about it. If you raise that whining voice to me once more, I'll…"

"You'll WHAT?" shouted Bulma. "You know good and well that if you so much as touched me, you'd end up killing me. And then you'd have nobody to buy you expensive toys to break. You wouldn't hit me anyway, you're not man enough!"

It was at that moment that they both heard a scream. Looking up, they saw a busty figure plummeting from the air, heading straight toward Bulma.

"What the…" Bulma started to ask, but the question would never be completed. The tumbling figure landed on Bulma with a resounding _SPLAT_ and every bone in Bulma's body was instantly shattered.

Vegeta merely stared in shock. Both at his crushed wife and at the gorgeous figure of the crusher.

Sarie Mue stood up, wiping excess Bulma off of her boots and blushed shyly. "Sorry," she said. "I'm still working on the landing part."

"You," Vegeta said. "You killed Bulma!"

"I did?" Sarie asked, surprised. "I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to kill anybody. I was just trying to find you, and…"

"You killed her! Squashed her like a bug!" Vegeta sputtered. "Blood is oozing from her mashed body like an overripe tomato. Her internal organs are smeared in a spiral pattern in a 20-foot radius."

"I was wondering what that was," admitted Sarie Mue.

They were interrupted as a Wizard of Oz fan club bus drove by. They were rehearsing for a charity concert later that evening.

"Ding-dong the witch is dead!" they sang.

"Which old witch?" asked the sopranos.

"The wicked witch" answered the basses.

They watched the bus as it drove on past.

"Well, then," said Vegeta, surprisingly calm now. "Saiyan custom is clear. Any time a rival female destroys one's mate, she is honor-bound to take her place. I know you're not a Saiyan, but nonetheless, I must insist that you honor all of the silly made-up customs that fanfic authors think of for Saiyan culture—obviously contrived plot devices though they be."

"Well, you're wrong about one thing," Sarie said, and she shook her tail at him. (No, not THAT kind of… Well actually, I guess both would apply, since it would be hard to shake one without the other inadvertently being shaken… Anyway, you're still a pervert!)

"Wha…" Vegeta stuttered. "You're a…a…"

"That right," Sarie purred. (Not literally. Just because some fanfiction writers seem to think that Saiyans literally purr, that's just silly. She purred in the metaphorical sense, which is to say, she said "that's right" in a sultry sort of voice. Get it? Got it? Good.) "I'm a Saiyan. Just like you."

She began to saunter toward him. "I've traveled farther than you could possibly imagine to find you," she said. She realized that she'd have to make up the obligatory back story as to why there was one Saiyan female left in the galaxy. There are rules to this, after all.

"You see," she began, tears welling up in her eyes as she began her flashback. "I was just a little girl. I'd just turned 3-Earth-years-old. My parents had thrown me a birthday party."

"Why would they celebrate your birthday in Earth years," asked Vegeta.

"They just did! Shut up!" snapped Sarie. "Anyway, it was the best! I got to eat space ice cream, and we had a Saiyan space cake. And I rode a Saiyan pony."

"There's no such thing," said Vegeta.

"Shut it!" she said. "But what I remember most…"

"You remember a lot for a 3-year-old," Vegeta said.

"I was a bright kid," she said. "I remember getting presents. And they got me my first miniature Saiyan space pod flying machine. I had so much fun riding it."

Vegeta sat down on the ground with a yawn as she continued.

"My mommy told me to be very careful and not to fly too far away. But I didn't listen. I wanted to see how far I could go with my new Saiyan space pod flying machine, so I zoomed out of the atmosphere to see the planet from space. It was gorgeous."

"Really?" asked Vegeta. "And what color was it?"

"It was red," she stammered.

"Red?" he asked.

"And yellow."

"Red and yellow? That's it?"

"No! You didn't let me finish. It was red and yellow and green and brown and scarlet and black and ochre and peach."

He looked at her expectantly.

"And..er…ruby and olive and violet and fawn and lilac and gold and chocolate and mauve and cream and crimson and silver and rose and azure and lemon and russet and grey and purple and white and pink and orange and BLUE!"

"Oh…" said Vegeta. "That's right."

"Anyway!" she continued, annoyed by his constant interruptions. "I was just about to go home, even though I knew Mother would scold me for going so far up, when I saw a terrible energy blast heading toward the planet."

"Really?" Vegeta asked. "What color was it?"

"WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LET ME FINISH? I tried to fly back toward the surface to warn my family, when the energy wave hit the planet, and it exploded, and my ship was blasted into deep space by the force of the shockwave."

"Amazing that it destroyed the planet, but didn't crack your toy flying machine," Vegeta commented.

She continued, pretending not to notice. "So, then I was knocked unconscious. And I woke up to find myself on a strange planet. I would later find out it was the planet Ceti Alpha V."

"Why would any intelligent species name its own planet with Earth Roman numerals and Greek letters? That doesn't even make sense."

"Well, that's what they called it," she said. "And so the Ceti Alpha Fivians raised me and taught me to fight and to fly ships. And when I was old enough, I swore I'd find the rest of the Saiyan survivors and we'd rebuild our species!" she finished, rather pleased with her back story.

Vegeta looked at her. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. That story was more holes in it than Trunks' pink mesh shirts. It's like something a retarded 8-year-old would make up on an acid trip. It's like one of the new Star Wars movies!"

"Well, it's all true," she said with a pout. "So… Are you ready to start rebuilding the species?" She sauntered toward him, twirling her tail in one hand.

Vegeta was clearly in shock. "I just can't believe it," he said. "All these years, thinking Kakarott and I were the only Saiyans left… Except for Brolly and Turles and Paragus and Brolly again… But basically just Kakarott and me. And now you appear. Do you know what this means?"

"It means that we can go crazy playing Mah-Jong and have lots of little babies with tails?" she asked.

"Sure, sure, that, too," he said. "And that I finally have someone to help me defeat Kakarott! Come! We must begin training immediately!"

He shot a blast of energy at her big enough to destroy a planet. (Which apparently is not very much. I mean, King Kai kept saying that Goku was going to blow up the planet with every move he used. "No! Don't sneeze while using the Kao-ken attack! It could destroy the whole planet! Right, Bubbles?" And every character since has been using exponentially more powerful moves, so how is it that Earth hasn't been shattered by Chaotzu and Yajirobe getting too frisky with their sparring? Anyway…)

So the blast of energy was coming at her.

"Wha!" she screamed, throwing her hands in front of her for protection. Her own energy instinctively spiked, and an even larger blast of energy shot forward, swallowing Vegeta's and continuing to rush toward the stunned Saiyan prince.

_SMACK_

Vegeta's body was thrown skyward, his clothes burning and ripping to shreds, with the impact of her ki blast. Sarie Mue opened her eyes, which she'd kept closed the entire time, and blinked. She wondered where Vegeta had gone off to.

"Vegeeeee-taaaaaah!" she cried. "Where aaaaarrrrrrreee yoooooouuuuuuuuu?"

No response.

"Well, I guess he must have flown o-"

_KER-SMASH  
_

The prince of Saiyans planted both his feet on her skull with his unexpected attack from above.

Sarie swatted at her head. "Darn mosquitoes," she muttered.

Vegeta ricocheted off her head, landing after completely unnecessary summersaults in the air. He breathed heavily, his clothing hanging off him. He held his arm, as though it had been broken.

"That was amazing!" he said. "You countered my energy blast and absorbed my kick with barely any effort. You are a truly formidable Saiyan! What family do you hail from?"

"Umm…" Sarie stammered. She didn't know anything about her Saiyan past except for the bunk she'd just made up. "I lived over on Eighth Street? Past the Glak'nars?'

"Now is not the time for joking!" shouted Vegeta. "Show me your insignia."

"I thought you'd never ask," she said, starting to unbutton her space leotard. (Buttons? Shut up—it could have buttons.)

"That's not what I meant," Vegeta groused. "Every Saiyan is tattooed at birth with an insignia incorporating his or her family lineage. That way we can brag about our heritages to less noble bloodlines. That's simply good manners for Saiyans. Show me your left butt cheek!"

"Well, it's a start," she mumbled, pulling down her space pants just enough for Vegeta to see the non-made-up tattoo that Saiyans really do have. And leotards can have pants and still be leotards. Shut up.

"Let's see," said Vegeta, pulling out a pair of reading glasses and propping them on his pointy nose and he leaned toward her butt. "Hmmm…blah blah blah…begat…who then begat…blah blah blah…son of…hmm… who fought the seven-toed Blarneq of Zherzek…yeah yeah…conqueror of the spider god…blah blah…"

"Just how big is this tattoo anyway?" asked Sarie, feeling a little embarrassed (and bare assed) at how much attention Vegeta was paying her left butt cheek.

"I'm almost to… ah… here we go," he said. "It says that you are the daughter of…" Vegeta sat up straight. "No! It can't be!"

"What can't be?" she asked.

"According to this, your father's name was… King Vegeta."

"King Ve… But that would make us – brother and sister!"

"Indeed," he replied standing up. "You wouldn't have known, of course. It is royal custom for the King of Saiyans to spread his seed around and have several illegitimate children scattered around just in case someone tries to exterminate the royal line. That way, there will always be someone to avenge them by destroying the usurper's entire family. Of course, by that time, the usurper has usually scattered around a few illegitimate children of his own, so they can come back a few years later to kill off that royal family. It's just how things are done with Saiyan royal families—an ancient custom that is in no way made up."

"I see," she said. "But if you and I are brother and sister, then that means…"

"Yes," he said, moving closer. He grabbed her in his arms and pressed her lips to his, kissing her passionately. "It means that we will not only re-establish the Saiyan race, but a pure royal line of succession!"

"What?!" she screamed, pulling away. "That's disgusting. I can't sleep with my brother."

"But the Saiyan royal line has intermarried for years. That's why we're the most powerful Saiyans. And the smartest and the tallest, too! And the most sane, of course. We've always pitied those lesser families who ran around marrying different strangers. It's bad for the bloodline, you see."

Sarie backed away, shocked. "I see… And Goku is stronger and taller than you why?"

"Kakarott? Well, you see, Kakarott was a commoner. One of thousands just like him..." Vegeta stopped. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh!" she said. "The reason you're so weak and short compared to him is that you're totally inbred. Your entire family is totally inbred. That's just gross and wrong."

"It's not wrong!" he shouted. "The royal line must be established once more! You must consent to be my bride! My mother/aunt/sister told me that if ever my family was to be killed, I must find a pretty cousin or niece to reestablish the line. Imagine finding a sister! A long-lost Saiyan sister! It's completely unthinkable. And very original, too, I might add. Never been done before—ever."

He came toward her, his hands grasping toward her ample bosom. "Be with me!"

"No!" she shouted, throwing out her hands and again blasting him with energy.

"AAARRRGGGHH!" he screamed, knocking the energy blast toward the sky with his fist. "FINE!" he screamed. "YOU DON'T BELIEVE THAT SAIYANS OF THE ROYAL LINE ARE THE MOST POWERFUL, TALLEST, SMARTEST AND MOST SANE? I'LL PROVE IT TO YOU BY DESTROYING THE PLANET!"

"But," Sarie said. "Wouldn't that kill you, too?"

"SHUT UP!' he shouted. "I'M SHOWING YOU HOW NOT INSANE I AM. FIIIIIIII-NAAAAAALLLLL"

"Uh-oh," said Sarie Mue.

"FLAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

Vegeta evaporated in a shower of color as energy radiated from him in powerful waves. The blast dipped down into the Earth's crust, setting off a chain reaction that… (Blah blah blah, you've seen this before. Think Namek, only this doesn't take 30 episodes.)

Long before the planet would collapse on itself, though, Sarie Mue was disintegrated into molecules, then atoms, then sub-atomic particles, and finally became free-floating energy, adding her little part to the fusion reaction that Vegeta had started.

Unfortunately, Vegeta's totally sane hissy fit sparked a change in the universe. Of course, we know that a butterfly's wings can cause hurricanes around the world. What can a planet explosion cause around the universe?

The Great Will of the Macrocosm watched the changes within the universe in horror. Suns were going supernova. Galaxies were being destroyed. Lindsey Lohan was out of rehab.

The Great Will could do nothing. As long as there was a governing principle of order, no matter how disordered the universe seemed to mere mortals, the Great Will had power. After all, she was the Great Will. She could bend the rules in small ways and nothing in the universe would break. She could even bring people back to life and place them in parodies of contrived fanfiction plots.

She was vaguely aware that Sarie Mue and the rest of the version of Earth were dead.

However, she was more interested in the growing rifts in the space-time continuum.

"I have to stop this," she whispered to herself. After all, there was no one around to hear her. "I can't do anything, but that doesn't matter. Somehow, I have to stop this."

The game had ended. The Great Will couldn't have guessed the result in her little game of playing around with self-insertion fanfics. She couldn't have known.

"I could have known. I just didn't want to. Who wants to be responsible for the destruction of the universe… the multiverse, even."

Far into the reaches of space, the Great Will felt something break. A seal. A seal she thought would last for at least several centuries. That would have been enough time to assemble her defenses.

As it was, hell was breaking out a little ahead of schedule.

She turned to her lackey and said what she'd been avoiding all this time.

"Assemble the heroes."

Her lackey, a nondescript person made up for just this scene, said, "Which ones?"

The Great Will closed her eyes. "All of them."

Chapter 12: The End of Everything

Or

Chapter 12: Sarie Goes to the Beach

Or

Chapter 12: We Get Fed Up with the Series and End it on a High Note


End file.
